When You Don't Expect The Unexpected
by 3anona
Summary: Percillia Rhea Jackson wasn't like anyone or anything they've encountered. She was an anomaly, even from a young age. When introduced to the Mythological World, she shakes it to the core, through unorthodox ways and sassy sarcasm. She is exactly what happens when you don't expect the unexpected. Rated T for a bit of rough language and the slight violent themes later on. Fem Percy.
1. Don't Go Screaming If I Blow You With A

CHAPTER 1: Don't Go Screaming If I Blow You With A Bang

I think I'm reconsidering all my life choices right now. On a second thought, no. No, I am not. But you would think that hanging upside down in some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere would be a reason enough.

"Can you get on with it, already? I've got places to be and people to meet," I sad, sighing exasperatedly. I mean seriously if you have someone captive just go straight to the damn interrogation before said captive finds a way to escape.

So, yeah, I'm tied upside down in a warehouse with a bunch of baddies surrounding me. Also, one wouldn't think that a twelve year old girl would need a dozen guards, you know, the big, bad, burrly type, who think that shaving your hair, wearing sunglasses inside, and holding rifles are intimidating.

Truthfully, for anyone else, it would be. But it is _not_ intimidating for me. Why? Well, you got to find out. 'Cause I ain't tellin' ya.

Baldy number one growled.

"Oh my, I'm terrified." Seriously? I mean, I already had my hands untied. Just as I was planning on making this poor guy's life miserable, someone came in to my cell. Intimidation factor, dumbass. "Finally!"

The guy who came in was stereotypical rich-gang-boss. He's even got it down to the Italian black suit, shiny shoes, sunglasses inside, two goons bigger than himself as bodyguards, and that _adorable_ scar on his eye, like Scar's scar from _The Lion King_. I'm calling him Tip.

Tip looked at me incredulously, and then turned to look at my _guards_.

"She's the problem," Tip sneered at his goonies. I raised an eyebrow. "I said I wanted the thief. Not a ten year old!"

"And here I thought I was the only one disappointed," I sighed shaking my head frustratedly. "I'm twelve by the way."

Seems like Tip doesn't like sarcasm. The dude kept on ranting about how I couldn't be the thief, like how could a twelve year old break into a Mafia safe house, get past all the security goons and alarm system _and_ break into his own personal safe.

"Someone needs a security system update," I said, breaking off his terrible, useless rant. Tip did not like the interruption and was going to cut me off, but I was seriously reconsidering my stay. "If I was you, and I'm seriously glad I'm not, I don't think that I would be putting a five hundred million dollar diamond anywhere farther than five centimeters away from myself. That was stupid, really stupid." _I've had the diamond for a week now._

Tip looked like he wanted to murder me. _Ah, well, take a number and get in line_. I was done with this whole fuck-up of mission. They didn't know shit. If i wanted info I needed to get to the higher ups. Though, one would think that stealing- ah, sorry _borrowing_ one of the Italian Mafia's most prized possessions would get the big boss out of his lair. _Oh, well_. At least, I got a new shiny trophy.

Thirty minutes later, there was a nice bonfire left behind me. _Ah, the wonderful uses of warehouses_. Don't worry, I made sure the baddies escaped. I might be a lot of things, but I'm not a killer, unless it was necessary. But a couple of the goons died in the crossfire.

I tried making myself look presentable enough for my mom not freak out. I mean, she knows about it, all my wonderful adventures, and she can't really stop me. Just because she semi-retired (she joins me sometimes) after she had me doesn't mean I'll stop. And, frankly, having your house raided in front of you makes you determined.

I climbed to my room through the fire escape stairs. I took a shower, one of the best parts of my day. I put my hair in two dutch braids. I put on a light, cold-shoulder, army green hoodie with denim shorts and mid calf black combat boots.

Mom says I look like dad. According to her, I have his _mesmerizing_ sea-green eyes, Mediterranean tan, aristocratic features, and the black-black hair that when it catches the light seems a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and purples. (Poetic, eh?)

Of course, under my big hoodie was my shoulder holster stocked with the glock and colt I refrained from using last night/this morning. I had a couple of different metal knives and a pretty dagger, a gift for on tenth birthday from mom.

Well, its technical term is _athame_. They are ceremonial daggers, and they are wickedly sharp though. Mine was an alloy of a glowing bronze and gold metal, with black _something_ spidering through it. The _athame_ had a twelve inch curved blade, and there was a sea serpent coiled around the hilt. The serpent was made of a blue metal encrusted with sapphires and emeralds, and two rubies for its eyes. Its head rested on the beginning of the blade. The end of the blue serpent's tail was made of silver and was sharp enough to gauge someone's eyes out with little to no pain. (Yes, I speak from experience. I _wound_ not _kill_.) It was just as beautiful as it was lethal. A lot. Her name was Kýma. Wave.

Mom never told me where she got it from or how. But she had a wistful look on her face. It was related to my dad. I didn't question her further. Though, she did say that one day I'll know.

Also, in case you're wondering, metal detectors seem to ignore it, and i have ways to smuggle (hehe, the word's funny) the guns and other knives from security. It also helps that a twelve year old girl is rarely ever suspicious, except if it involved cookies and homework.

Speaking of cookies, my stomach grumbled. Mom was baking her ridiculously delicious, blue cookies. Mmmm.

I left my room without a thought. Bad mistake. Mom was standing behind the kitchen island and the heavenly tray of hot, gooey cookies. And she looked _mad_.

"Percillia Rhea Jackson," she said it in a cool, low house. Shit, she used the full

name. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the warehouse explosion in Queens last night, eh?"

"Um, well, you see. It depends really." Why, oh why, do I turn into a flustered, I-was-just-caught-in-the-forbidden-weapons-room-again kid? She intensified her glare. "Yes, I did I'm sorry. But I couldn't sleep. And Nancy was bitchin again, and Grover kept _moaning_ and _groaning_ and _mumbling_ gibberish. I have a field trip tomorrow. Oh, shit- it's today! I was stressed and a game of tag with the Mafia sounded fun and stress-relieving. And I'm rambling now. Please stop glaring like that. And- ugh!"

My mom was laughing her ass off. _Thanks, I feel the love, Mom_. I sighed. I swear she is the only person who can get me all flustered like this.

"Can I atleast have some cookies before I sneak back to my dorm?"


	2. 'Cause The Girl She's Hiding Horns

**Disclaimer: All rights of characters are reserved to Rick Riordan. I only own the** **plot and OOC-ness of the characters.** **Also****, last chapter's title is a lyric from M.I.A's Bad Girls and this chapter's title is** **from Bryce Fox's Horns. I think it might be a good idea to listen to the song of** **which the title comes from during reading. Thanks.**

**3anona**

CHAPTER 2: 'Cause The Girl She's Hiding Horns

Sneaking back to school was easier than one would've thought. And I'm not being cocky, the security guards are either asleep, drunk, or playing card or board games, andthe security feed is rigged by a couple of IT students. I mean, who would think that aprivate school for delinquents and troubled kids needs more vigilant security?

"A headcount and we'll all be on our way," Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher who thought as an award for us passing his class a trip to the Metropolitan Museum to look at Ancient Greek and Roman stuff is a good idea, shouts over the ruckus that is sixth-graders.

It is a miracle how he deals with hyperactive delinquents like it is an everyday occurrence. Also adding to the fact that he's wheelchair-bound, he is a pretty awesome dude. He sets up gladiator-like tournaments in one of campus' many gardens and fields.

He even lets us use swords and shields, which were child-proofed. ("I'm afraid of havingto worry about unnecessary maiming." But it's fun anyways.) His tweed jacketconstantly smells like coffee. And I suspect a chocolate fetish. Seriously, he always has some wherever he is.

I sighed.

"Could you two stop fighting for once in your fucked-up, miserable lives?" Nancy andGrover were at it, _again_. _I think it's a crush. On second thought...Nope!_

Nancy Bobofit was this redheaded rich-brat I took under my wing in fifth grade. She wasone of those who thought that bullying would get her somewhere. I knocked somesense into her, literally. And now she is like this passive-aggressive little sister under my care. Neglectful parents are massive fucktards.

Grover, however, is this crippled kid who would do anything for cheese enchiladas,

even going as far as ignoring his crutches. The brunette is as awkward as a goldfish ina shark tank. He, also, has this habit of bleating when nervous or scared. He was one ofNancy's first victims. Now, both act on the concept of sibling rivalry. It is as endearing as it is fucking annoying.

"Now why the hell would I do that?," Nancy was perplexed.

"Uhh," Grover was looking at me weird and concerned. "Are you okay…?"

How do you explain to your friends that you've been up all night on a goose chase witha world-wide criminal organization? You don't. But they know about my sneaking out ofschool, so…. And being squished between them is _not_ helping my growing migraine. Ugh.

Forty-five minutes and a food fight later, we were standing in front of stone slab withpictures of fourteen naked dudes and dudettes. The Olympians stood in all their nude glory, the Olympian gods not council, cause Zeus is a whiny bitch who doesn't want hisbig brother and sister on _his_ council.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one attempting to melt the stone with my eyes. Mrs.Dodds, our other chaperone, seemed pretty intent on turning the marble to ash.Sheesh, the glare is worse than the ones she uses in her pre-Algebra classes. (" Now,honey…" and then you find yourself with a month worth of the most ridiculously possiblepunishment. Like is mowing the lawn in front of the teacher's lounge with child-safety scissors even _legal_?) She was widely known as the school's demon-grandmother-from-hell, especially with that leather jacket of hers.

Grover and Nancy were trying to see whose push is strong enough to knock the other off balance first. _Ugh, idiots!_

I grabbed them both from the scruff of their necks, and pulled them away from each other, with a loud, "_What_ in the name of the ever loving fuck are you two doing?"

Silence. Shit.

"Is everything okay, Ms. Jackson?" Mr. Brunner raises an eyebrow at my man-handlingof the two, but doesn't say anything. It, unfortunately, is a pretty normal sight aroundhere. Also, I think he _finally_ learned to ignore my rough language.

"Not at all, Mr.Brunner," I smiled cheekily. "We were just reenacting the Big Three's

domain division." Nancy and Grover looked at me incredulously, as if saying, _areseriously serious right now?_ But I was on a roll now. "If the stories are true enough, Zeus and Hades would've been at each other's throats, because Zeus was being a dickand Hades, being the old sibling, was extremely annoyed. And because Poseidon was the middle child, he was stuck in the middle until he finally snapped. And that is whereyou find us in this predicament."

I dropped them both and mock-bowed. Grover was shaking in what appears to be fear, as thunder rumbles outside loudly. He's often like that when it comes to thunderstorms, or storms in general. And natural disasters. _Pussy_. Nancy was shaking her head.

"And what, Ms. Jackson, led to that _debacle_?" He looks a bit uncomfortable, like he justate a lemon. _Huh_.

"Well, it depends really. Do you want an origin story or a flash forward?" I ask. He

nodded at the former. "Okay. So, we start with the crazy, evil, farmer, aka Kronos." Mr.Brunner raises an eyebrow. "And it seems that he has a taste for babies, which explains why he ate his children after Mother Bitch- ah, _my bad_\- Nature, Gaea his mother, told him a _prophecy?_ About how he'll end up like his old man Uranus, whose chopped off dick apparently makes pretty ladies- ask Aphrodite. Anyway, to avoid that, he ate his children.

"But a great thanks for baby Zeus looking as ugly as a rock, his mama, Mother Rhea- she's a chill person in my book- fed her husband a rock. Sparky grew up and

gave his dad a barf-worthy drink that ended with his fully grown siblings out of their father's stomach.

"A war happened, the Titanomachy. And the gods won. And the bros divided the world through a draw. Zeus takes the sky, Poseidon the seas, and Hades the underworld. And the end, until Zeus hits puberty and starts putting his dick where it doesn't belong, aka the new beginning of Greek Mythology," I finished with a bow, mybraids brushing the ground.

Mrs. Dodds was _cackling_. The rest of the students were either laughing or pretending to barf or strangling each other.

Grover and Mr. Brunner were having some sort of silent conversation, both looking akinto ghosts. They're both in on something. Because no matter house close to a teacher you are, you do not talk behind your friend's back with a teacher. I was suspicious oneday and decided to eavesdrop. They were talking about me, but it was very confusing.

I sat back. And I still am, waiting for them to slip, because even during to their secretmeet-ups, they talk about a _You-Know-Who_ after the blood of the thief of

_You-Know-What_. After all, patience is virtue. Sometimes.

"I guess full credit to you Ms.Jackson," Mr. Brunner said after he and Grover seemed tocome to a decision, and the class was quiet. "And please _try_ and refrain from speakingin such way."

I humored him with a nod and preppy smile. He sighed, "How does a lunch break soundlike?"

We all headed outside to eat, despite the incoming storm. I was sitting on the edge ofthe fountain, a hand in the water and the other feeling Kýma, my _athame_, under my too-big-but-still-my-favorite green hoodie. Both were soothing for me. Both humming a familiar, yet foreign tune, melody… I don't know. It just is.

I sighed. Something bad is going to happen. I could feel it.

My moment of relative-peace was broken by two bickering pre-teens settling beside me.

"What is it this time?" I sighed. I _really_ don't have time for this.

They both start talking at the same time. And, honestly, my mood is messed up since last night. I didn't get much sleep. I didn't get the information I need. And now I have todeal with Grover and Nancy's never-getting-along daily fiasco. And I'm _just so stressed_.

I scream-groaned in frustration.

Next thing I know, everyone and thing is silent. Everyone is staring behind me.

Nancy and Gover were soaking in the middle of the fountain with varying looks of _oh, shit!_ and _what the fuck?_ I'll let you guess who has which.

The silence was broken when the two idiots got out of the fountain, wet to the bone. Whispers broke out, some claiming I pushed them in and some saying the water grabbed them.

_Oh, shit!_

There is a reason, after all, for why I try to keep my cool. I do _not_ want the government on my ass anymore than they already are.

I took a deep breathe to calm down. _Wouldn't want the fountain to spontaneously combust_. Yes, it's Summer, but that doesn't mean someone needs an unmentioned shower this trip. It happened before in fourth grade. It involved levers, catwalks, and a shark tank. It wasn't nice, for them. I loved it, sharks are the cutest, cuddly predators.

Any way, back to the problem at hand.

Mrs. Dodds grabbed me by my hood and dragged me back to the museum, all the while ignoring Grover's nervous bleats of 'I pushed Nancy' and Nancy's 'I pushed Grover.' I swear if she wasn't a teacher, she wouldn't have had her hand intact.

She only stopped when we were in the same exhibit of the nude Olympians. It was completely empty except for the both of us and the marble slab.

I turned and snatched mt hood from her grasp, glaring at her. _Hard_. It gave me pleasure when she flinched before she started growling.

"Where is it?" she screeched. "Where is it theif?"

"Depends on what is it your looking for," I replied lowly and coolly. My stare didn't waver when two Mrs. Dodds-doppelgangers dropped from the windows. It didn't waver when it became hot and cold at the same time. It didn't even waver when they started _morphing_.

_You lose your cool now, you die. Stay focused and freak later when it's over._

I took a deep breath and focused on my surroundings. Thank whoever is up there for ADHD, it becomes very useful in situations like these. It helped me know that the two approaching from the back were holding scorching weapons, not unlike Mrs. Dodds' lava whip. It helped me know that all entrances were closed including windows, except the one where Mrs. Dodds and I came from, but it was guarded by the twin with the flaming battle axe. Lovely.

I refocused on the now fully morphed Fury. ( Their picture was carved somewhere in themuseum. The Erinyes. And they looked suspiciously alike. Put two and two together, well it isn't that hard.) Her leathers blakish-gray, leather skin ended with yellow, foot-long talons for fingers and toes, and jagged sharp fangs in her mouth. And boy she looked _fugly!_ Her coal red eyes, not unlike those truck- sized hounds I've encountered,were full of hatred and _was that confusion?_ She was probably wondering why I didn't

look close to pissing myself. I was stone still, yet hyper-aware of their inching closer tome.

"What are you accusing me of stealing?" My voice was still cold.

"You know!" They wailed in unison. "You know, thief! Now give it back!"

"I'm afraid I don't know. For all I know you could be talking about the last piece of

yesterday's Chocolate Cake," I said and shrugged one shoulder delicately. "It was

_good_," I added as an afterthought and relaxed my stance.

_Getting them angry_, my mind supplied. There's a more significant chance of survival ifyour opponent is in an anger-haze. They become furious, more brutal, but sloppy andinefficient if they don't know how to channel their anger. _They don't seem me as athreat. Good._ They think I'm bluffing and arrogant. _And they look that they normally get their way with things. They think they're playing with me._

They screeched so loud I doubt that they didn't hear it outside. "Our Master will have your head!"

Next thing you know, the mace-wielding Fury had a glowing-bronze knife in between her eyes, and into her brain. She turned to sulfuric, golden dust, just like the hound. Her black mace remained on the dust pile with the innocent looking bronze knife.

"Megaera!" Her two sisters wailed again.

In my hand, already two more glowy-bronze throwing knives in place of the one I already threw. I held them like ice picks, and raised a mocking eyebrow at the two remaining Furies.

They screamed, _again_, and unprepared-for-battle began.

She cracked her fire-whip at me, while I ducked to miss the flaming-axe and slashed at the hags' feet. They hissed and caught their weapons before they hit the other and turned on me. But I was high on adrenaline.

I chopped of axe-Fury's hand, and her hand and weapon were on the ground. I took the chance plunged one of my knives in her heart cavity. She turned to golden dust milliseconds short of taking my throat with her.

"Tisiphone!" I guess Mrs. Dodds was Alecto. _Great_.

I picked up the axe, and in my adrenaline high my brain ignored the flames dancing

around the black metal or the fact that it probably weighed more than myself.

I would've had my arm cleaved off if my instincts weren't so honed. I turned and found my demon math teacher airborne. Without thinking I jumped, swinging the axe. Alecto howled as her wing was cut off and was veering towards the ground. I tackled her from behind and chopped of the other leathery wing.

I quickly tied her hand with the whip behind her back and shoved two of my black knives, _I think of the same metal as the Furies' weapons_, through her calves and into the floor. I was on her back.

"Now," I began as I pressed her head to the floor. She was seething and thrashing, but I held on. "What did I _steal_? Who sent you here? And _Why_ in do you think that I stole _it?"_

I chose to ignore the two gasps, and therefore the two people who just entered. I very much like to know why someone is after my head. When she stayed silent, I bashed herhead in the floor.

"You _will_ pay for this thief!" I swear, I'm barely holding it together. "My Master-"

_"Arrgh!"_ I screamed as I bashed her head in once more. Apparently it was too much,and she too following her sisters turned to golden dust.

I stood up and dusted myself from her remains. I exhaled, attempting to come down from the adrenaline rush while I collected my knives and _spoils_ (I think.)

After a stare down with the inanimate objects- the axe, mace, whip and Alecto's wings- I had a two back ring bands, a thin black, multi-layered cuff bracelet, and two _awesome_ black, fingerless leather gloves with thick and sharp spikes on the knuckles. Again, _awesome!_

I turned back to see Grover and Mr. Brunner staring at me with undisguised shock and _is that __awe?_ Grover was holding his reed pipes, that I advised him many time to think before he plays, threateningly while my wheelchair-bound teacher had a quiver of arrows hanging of his wheelchair and an arrow notched in a wooden bow. They seemed frozen.

"A bit too late for the cavalry, eh?" I smirked and raised an eyebrow while putting my hands on my hips.


	3. And There's No Way She'll Ever Stay

**Disclaimer: The title of this chapter is a lyric from Camila Cabello's She Loves Control.**

**-3anona**

CHAPTER 3: And There's No Way She'll Ever Stay Unless You Give It Up

Seems like my _cavalry_ has bad reaction time.

I sighed and sat down, criss-crossing my legs. After an adrenaline rush, I usually hit the hay or have something sweet, like blue cookies and milk. If I don't, I may get nauseous.

_Well, it isn't everyday one encounters, yet fights the Erinyes and lives to tell the tale._

"Your hands," Mr. Brunner's concerned voice breaks the silence.

"Wha-," I looked down and stopped short. My hand were bloody, with blistering and sizzling welts. My green hoodie was oddly intact, no rips, scorch marks, or even blood spatters. _Can't say the same about my exposed skin, though. Fuck, mom's gonna kill me._ There were cuts and slashes on my shoulders (cold-shoulder sweater/hoodie, remember?), and from mid-thigh to mid-calf- where my denim shorts and combat boots end.

_How the _fuck _did I not feel this?_

I mean, this _definitely_ isn't my first rodeo, and not even the first including '_mythological' _ creatures. I know I have a high pain tolerance. But wha..

Confusion must've been evident on my face, 'cause next thing I know, there is a piece of _chocolate? _shoved in my mouth, and- _mmmm._ _Mom's blue cookie goodness._

The tango of sensations was getting a little uncomfortable. I closed my mouth and shoved the offending limb away.

Grover quickly backed away. _Probably still scared shitless. Pussy._

I raised an eyebrow but thanked him anyway. Mr. Brunner was putting away the leftover pieces into his jacket pocket (..._that rhymes!_)

"What in Mother Bitch's green Earth was _that?"_ I asked, pointing. It was good. A little _too_ good. So, not good.

He raised his eyebrows at my choice of words. _Eh._ "I don't think it's a good idea to talk here, child."

Okay. So two things to add to my I-don't-like list. Not getting information and being called a child.

"Sir," my voice was cold. "With all due respect, I am not accepting this answer. You may be my favorite teacher, by far, but that still doesn't give you a pass to feed me an unidentified something then saying _we_ need to go talk somewhere else."

He didn't look like he was expecting that. "It is dangerous here for you. We _need_ to go now." His voice was soothing like he was talking to a scared animal. _Trust me Brunner, bad idea._ In fact, I was too angry to even notice my wounds healing and blood slithering back to where it belongs.

"Of course, it isn't safe," I exploded. "I almost got _mauled_ by the _Erinyes_. Hades' torturers. Which means _goddamned Hades_ sent them. _Hades_ thinks I stole from him. _The Lord of the fucking Underworld _went as far as sending his most trusted and ferocious servants after me! Which also means that _it_ is _very_ important to him. And even after all that I am _trying_ to ignore the fact that millenia old deities are still around and one already has a motherfucking vendetta against me."

_And, why the hell are they flinching every two seconds?_

I was breathing heavily. I, also, belatedly noticed the thick mist in the air and water droplets on the ground and _oh, fuck! Not fucking now!_

"I also know you two know _exactly_ what is happening and _why_." I was calming down, my hand fingering Kýma. I exhaled. _Oh, thank fuck!_ It was a lot less humid now. "I also know that you are on my side. For now, atleast. But I am still not trusting you blindly, sir."

Grover looked sad. _It could be because I'm ignoring him…_.

My thoughts were running rampant now. I automatically drowned out my teacher's voice. Yes, automatically. _I pass my classes, but it has jack shit to do with teacher rants_.

So, facts. My pre-algebra teacher is- _was? Does getting vaporized count as quitting-_ a Fury. The triplet from hell almost killed me. I made them go poof. Hades has something _important_ stolen from him. He thinks I stole it.

Hades, sure as fuck, is going to retaliate. An eye for an eye. Something precious for some… thing precious.

A look of horrified realization dawned my face, and I think I'd gone pale. Brunner stopped immediately. They looked at me with apprehension. _The Furies couldn't scare me, so what the hell _is_?_

"Mom," I breathed, before shimmying up the marble stone to the now open window.

"Mom," I breathed, before shimmying up the marble stone to the now open window.

I was halfway through New York before either of them understood. And moved to do something.

Mom is my precious something. He is going to take her as hostage, since threatening my life proved useless.

I made my way up the fire escape. I immediately headed to the little, grey weapons' room. She likes being their while writing her book, since she wasn't in the kitchen.

_Please don't let me be late_.

I almost sobbed in relief and launched myself at her. She caught me, of course. You know assassin- ah, _former_ assassin- and all.

"I didn't think you'd miss me that much," she chuckled. But sombered up quickly when she saw my face.

I quickly explained to her what was going on. And by everything. I mean _everything._ From when my frustration triggered the water, till when I shot two officers in the leg and making a mad dash the last few yards here.

Apparently a joyriding twelve-year-old past the speed limit by no less than ten mph is illegal.

We were _gearing up_ as I told my tale. Any other mother would've already called the nice people in white coats while being terrified. My ma, however, got more determinant. And I had no doubt that I made the right choice by telling her.

I was still in my shorts and sweater, my guns now fully stocked and extra ammo in the shoulder holster underneath the sweater, with Kýma in my jeans' waistband. My two dutch braids were okay, except for the butterfly-shaped balisongs- butterfly knives, _very inconspicuous, I know_\- at the end of the braids, resting at my hips. Along with my new band rings on my middle fingers, my cuff bracelet on my wrist, and my _groovy_\- hehe- leather gloves on.

Mom seemed to like and approve of my new arsenal.

Mom didn't look that different. Her fully stocked shoulder holster- you know, with guns, knives, grenades and glowy knives too- was underneath a white, flowy blouse tucked in slim-jeans. I have no doubt that their were at least two knives in her suede, ankle boots, as the two tall, thin ones holding her brown hair in tight bun.

"Okay let's go," she said grabbing her purse. "Our overnight duffel bags are in the car. Your phone? Headphone? You got the gem? Good."

_Ah, my phone sweet phone._ I _love_ the thing. All my music is on this metal bugger. And mom's mutual tracking device. She knows where I am, and so do I. It also charges using almost any type of energy provided. It's custom made.

No way to hack into them, because there is stuff that can bring down countries and ruin lives and embarrassing baby pictures, or just pictures in general.

My almost-latest trophy, the baseball sized diamond, now looked like how '_diamonds'_ look, before it was just a big, retarded tennis ball. Mom is very resourceful when it comes to illegal stuff.

_Like mother, like daughter, eh?_

But before we head to the door, we freeze. Someone's banging on the door. _Violently._


	4. Cause That's What My Momma Taught Me

**Disclaimer: The title is a lyric from Fifth Harmony's Bo$$.**

CHAPTER 4: 'Cause That's What My Momma Taught Me

_Bang! Bang! Bang! _

For a second I thought that another monster was trying to break in, that is, before a series of nervous bleats caught my ear.

_Seriously, Grover? Now?_

Mom apparently recognized him too, because the next minute there was a wheezing _satyr_ in the middle of my living room. You know half-goat, half-man. My best friend is a satyr. _A satyr… Why not? Perfectly normal. Mhm. _

"Chiron- says- it's- time," he said panting.

Mom didn't seem confused. In fact, she looked grim, like she expected it. She turned to me and opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

"In the car."

We headed down with Grover on our tails. He was sniffing the air and his eyes were unfocused.

"You okay, G-man?" I was no longer angry at him. He was one of my loyal-est friends. And he seems to always have my back- cover stories for when I am not in school, homework help (Dyslexia is a bitch.) and those are just a few.

"Oh, Perci," he moaned. He leaned on my shoulder. "What've you gotten yourself into."

We got in the car. And I guess mom and I have something against speed limits.

"I guess it's time for an explanation, Mom," I reminded her once we were on the highway. "It has something to do with dad. Right?"

"Right" One of the many things I love about my mother is that she doesn't beat around the bush. "He was...special. And with everything that happened today, I think you know who he is."

I nodded. I knew my father wasn't normal. _Lost at sea, not dead_. It's not a common occurrence, and neither is my apparent affinity for liquids.

My father was a god. A goddamned greek Olympian god. And I have a pretty firm idea on who exactly he is.

"You figured it out," Grover said shakily from the backseat.

"Yes…," I nodded and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Satyrs," he said pointing at his shaggy hindquarters. "We are empathetic."

_Well, that explains a whole lot of shit._ "And…?"

"Your scent became ten times stronger. And not that it wasn't strong before," he elaborated.

"Dude, what the _fuck._" I ignored mom's '_Language' _and sniffed myself. And sure enough, I still smell like my lavender shampoo and my natural beachy scent, if not a little sweaty. _But that is trucking justified, okay._ "I do not stink."

"No, not like that," he hastily corrected. I glared. He yelped. "Your aura. It's strong, a bit too strong for your own good."

Mom seemed to notice my agitation, 'cause she interrupted me saying, "Monsters are attracted to auras. And your's is especially strong. Your scent to them is like blue cookies to you."

Shit. So I'm a monster-snack. _Lovely_.

"And now we are going to a place where people like you are safe from them-"

"Wait, wait, wait. Time-out," I cut her off. "Remember that little tidbit of info where the Lord of Dead is going to be after you. I sure as fuck am _not_ leaving you."

"Perci-"

"Mom, no!" And for the second time today, I lost my cool. "There is no way in Uncle Sam's hat that I am leaving you. And you know I don't give a flying fuck about creatures being after me. I can hold my own. And my chances are significantly higher if you are there. Now, we are going to Montauk first. It's ten minute from here. We are going to get the rest of the _stuff_ there and then you are going with me to that _safe haven_."

Mom's smart enough to know a losing battle when she hears or sees one.

Ten minutes of tense silence later, we were in our cabin in Montauk.

Yes, _our, _we own it_._ _Under an alias of course. _If anyone asks, I'm Rihanna Johansson, daughter of Seraphina Johansson.

Anyway, back to the present. I love Montauk. The place does wonders to my Mom. She looks younger and her blue eyes sparkle like when the sun hits the sea. (_I am so poetic_.) It's where she met dad. And our annual summer destination. _Ah, the memories_.

But no time for nostalgia now. There were more important problems at hand.

Mom and I had Grover helps us, with his goat hooves, to break the floorboards. We don't have enough time to focus on the too-many-to-count locks and safe codes now.

Mom handed me the silver briefcase lying innocently on the end of the many safes.

Grover was jumping around holding his hooves, repeating '_ow, ow, ow.'_

"Oh, man up, Grover."

"I don't remember you breaking through titanium and steel with your own bare _feet!"_

"Technically, they're hooves."

I could feel his glare trying to penetrate my hoodie. I skillfully ignored it. An angry Grover is worse than a Grover on reed pipes.

As I was stuffing the briefcase in my duffel inside the car's trunk, one _hell _of a roar broke the monotone of the thunderstorm.

Mom herded us back to the car, and drove like our lives depended on it. _Which it did._

"I'm not going to ask about that roar, 'cause my gut says I'll know soon enough and I'm not in a hurry. But," I said over the sound of the thunder and rain. "Why are we going to Long Island Sound?"

"It's where the haven is," Grover answered for my Mom. "A bit faster Ms. Jackson, please."

My mom smirked, and I heard Grover gulp and whimper. I chuckled as I enjoyed the exhilarating speed.

Now, normal people would need an hour and thirty minutes to get from Montauk to Long Island. We, however, are not normal. Before Grover told mom to go faster, we would've reached Long Island in forty minutes, _now _it'll be twenty minutes give or take.

I love our black and blue Bugatti.

Another earth-shattering roar. I looked back, and if I didn't know better I would've have thought it was Arnold Schwarzenegger on steroids in his normal steroid, good old days.

But I knew better.

"They sent the _motherfucking Minotaur_ after us," I exclaimed. Like, _what. The. Fuck. _

"Language," my Mom replied calmly. At times like these, I appreciate her ability to keep calm and focus. "And it's Pasiphae's son. Names have power."

Ah, Pasiphae, scarred for life Pasiphae. Poor mortal wife of bitch-ass king Minos, who thought it's smart to get a bunch of pissy gods angry. Said gods then made aforementioned wife fall in love with and fuck a sacred bull. Also, said bitch-ass put his stepson in a maze to execute people where he _conveniently _put a genius, genius' son, and, later, genius' nephew in the middle of the maze, just because.. And, when bitch-ass dies he becomes a judge in the Underworld. The gods' rationality and justice everyone.

"Are you expecting me to go around calling everyone _You-Know-Who_ and _You-Know-What_, because names have power," I asked her incredulously. "Have you _met _me woman?"

"Come on, just one more mile," Grover was pleading with the car. "Please. O Zeu kai alloi theoi."

"Grover, language!" Mom and I said at the same time. Hehe, I'm a hypocrite. They both looked at me like they had the same thought. I smiled cheekily back, making sure my dimples were prominent.

But just as we passed the Delphi Strawberry Services' _Pick Your Own Strawberries_ sign, simply put, we got struck by lightning.

Yup, lightning. I do not advise it. It is highly uncomfortable and there are chances of it being lethally fatal. And there is a possibility you'll end up in a ditch. Like us. Thank you.

So, after mom and I argued abit- which I won- when we got out of the car relatively unhamed, we grabbed an unconscious Grover and hauled him with us to the tall pine tree. That thing is _huge._

"The Minotaur," I began and ignored my Mom's glare. "How do we fight it?"

"And what makes you think I know?"

I raised an eyebrow. _Really, Mom, really?_

We both ignored the roaring closing in behind us and focused on climbing the hill.

She sighed, "The thing's a dimwit, but a strong dimwit. It has one gear: forward. And- didn't we already go over that when we were in Spain?"

"Yup. But distracting you is a good idea now."

It was, until we abruptly had to split up when the stink-shit barrelled between us. Seriously, he stinks. I could almost imagine the maggots from rotting meat crawling on his furry torso.

Mom threw Grover a bit further up the hill.

I had Kýma in my right hand an a black knife in my other. Normal weapons wouldn't have worked anyway. The guns are there for back-up, like when police cars were following us down the highway. I shot their tires. Very effective for getting the police of your tail. _Bye-bye police._

Anyway, Mom held two glowy-bronze daggers.

We surrounded beefshit. He was only distracted for a second between our slashes. He swung his arms wildly after mom pierced an eye and me following with the other. We were dodging his arms while slashing at the fucker. I cleaved his gigantic pointy horn off. Kýma is awesome like that. _And the wonders of adrenaline._

Mino Jr. didn't appreciate it. And _what is it with monster and loud noises?_ My ears were ringing from that last roar.

Mom was slashing at his knees when the bastard made a wild swing and grabbed her neck. She plunged her knife in the monster's ear, while cutting off the hand holding her in the air just as she exploded in golden light.

I was angry. In fact, I was _so_ _angry _I drowned out everything around me. I ignored the increased downpour of the rain. I ignored the thunder booming. I even ignored Grover's bleary bleats for food.

The Minotaur now had my undivided attention.

_Poor, poor bastard._

I ran at him without a sound, proving that I am my mother's daughter. He was running in circles. Mom and I did a lot of damaging to his senses. I jumped over his hulking frame of seven feet and landed on his beefy neck.

One of my hand grasped his remaining horn while the the other ripped his giant gold ring out of his nose.

He bellowed and threw his head backwards. I flew away with a crack.

_Well, two cracks. The Bastards horn and my head on a rock._

Have I mentioned the benefits of adrenaline and ADHD in situations like this? It's hella good.

I staggered to my feet in time before Minobeef ran me over and had me for dinner. The scent of my blood mixing with the wind and rain put him in a frenzy. _Good, he's overwhelmed, disoriented and fucking angry_.

I held the horn in one hand and Kýma in the other. And the next time he came he had his own horn in his heart and his bull head of his shoulder.

He turned to dust soon after, his severely disfigured and mauled head rolling at my feet. It didn't turn to dust. It just looked at me with blank and bloody, gouged out eyes. A guilty sense of satisfaction and ugly pleasure filled me as looked at the bloody _thing _in front of me.

Grover's bleat brought me back. He was looking at me, really looking at me.

We didn't say a word as we dragged each other to the big blue farmhouse and passed the pine tree. Kýma was washed off by the rain and securely in my waistband. My _spoils_ were on top of the hill.

I was coming down from my adrenaline high, _fast_. The blood loss was getting to me. The pungent smell of eau de wet Minotaur with the bonus of Minotaur innards and gore was making me dizzy. More than I already am. I barely held myself from barfing up the cookies I ate this morning.

My face was bloody and caked with grime except for the tear tracks running down my face.

It stopped raining and I could see the brilliant night sky as I collapsed in front of the big farmhouse's porch.

Just as I was dragged into unconsciousness, I spotted the face of my Latin teacher. My voice was barely above a whisper, but I have no doubt he heard.

"You have a hell-lot of explaining to do, _Brunner."_

Then, nothing.


	5. Have Faith In Your Dreams and Someday

**Disclaimer: The title is from Cinderella's A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes.**

CHAPTER 5: Have Faith In Your Dreams And Someday…

You know how teachers and _Disney_ keep telling us to follow our dreams?

I have two words for them…

_Fuck you._

One would think that I might finally rest after going without sleep. But nooo. Even my subconscious won't let me rest, or maybe it's just one god trying to fuck me up while I'm asleep.

Yeah, apparently they can do that. Because, you know, fucking gods are real.

I'm blaming Morpheus and Hypnos. Gods of dreams and sleep. Respectively, of course.

So where to start. _Ah, yes._ Why in the name of Mother Bitch are two of the gods fighting like two-year-olds? And the Big Three, nonetheless. They kept shoving each other back and forth.

I swear, if these two weren't destroying Montauk with storms and hurricanes- _and did I mention Sharknados? The horses horsing around? And the attack of the pooping eagles? Are they on laxatives, or some shit?_\- I would've had popcorn and my phone to tape it.

"_Give it back. Give it back," the one in a blue greek toga growled. The dude looked like a bloody body builder, all natural and without the steroids. I couldn't see features from here, but if his body was anything to go by, he would be handsome._

_And apparently so was the other one. He was wearing a green toga. And he kept silent. _

_Both seemed to know that greeny didn't have it, but both were too prideful to tell the other so. Bluey didn't want to admit being wrong, and greeny would not say anything until bluey apologized._

_Or maybe they were afraid to admit that it was someone they locked away a long, long time ago. That is, if the cold, terrifying voice coming from way down under was to go by._

"_Go on… children…," the voice hissed, goading them. And instinctively, I knew it wasn't their third brother._

_Even from my perch on the roof of our cabin I could feel the apprehension and their willingness for their squabble to go on, as long as they ignored the unwanted and unwelcome presence._

I thought that a glimpse of the near apocalypse would be enough, but nooo.

_I was in an empty white room. I tried to move. Keyword: tried._

_Why the fuck am I in a strait-jacket?_

_The sound of struggling made me look around. There were six chairs set in a circle, and now each chair had an occupant with a strait jacket. We were all about the same age._

"_So," the only blond in the room began, but was cut off by the punk girl._

"_Jason," she said disbelievingly. The boy- Jason looked at her._

_He was also bewildered, "Thalia."_

_They tried to go to each other, but couldn't. Apparently, aside from the white strait jackets we were stuck to the white metal chairs, by thick white leather straps on our legs, chest and necks. Lovely._

_And why the hell is everything white?_

_I cleared my throat, "Does anyone know anyone here? Anyone _else_. 'Cause I sure don't."_

_They all looked at me. I raised an eyebrow and sighed._

"_Fine, I'll start. It's not like I have anything better to do…" Fuck dream spaces and awkward conversations. I sighed and put on a preppy grin. "Hello, strangers stuck with me in the land of Everywhere and Nowhere. My name is Percillia Jackson, but please call me Perci. Pleased to meet you…"_

"_Thalia Grace," the raven-haired punk said. She pointed at the blond. "This is my baby brother, Jason Grace."_

"_Oi," Jason, cried indignantly. _

"_Bianca di Angelo," said the Italian chick, with back hair and eyes._

_Her male, younger look-alike piped with, "Nico di Angelo, pleased to meet you."_

"_Hazel Levesque," said the dark-skinned girl._

And before anything happened, the scene abruptly changed, _again._ That was seriously so, very… counterproductive.

_And I'm in another roomless-room. I don't know how that is; it just is._

_There were three old women dressed in white robes, their dark hair in a loose bun, with strands framing their bronze-tanned faces. Despite their chosen age they looked ethereal._

_I did something that honestly left me shocked._

_I bowed, "Ladies Fate."_

_I was polite?! What? But it was necessary. These bitches could ruin my life. And they, apparently, could read minds, if their raised eyebrows were any indication. Fuck. Ugh!_

_I think one chuckled. Nice, laugh at my pain. More, giggles. Huh._

"_Rise," the Moirai said as one. "Rise, Favored of Fate."_

_Dramatic much. But that implication has many...implications. But I only think it means I'm gonna have one hard-ass life while they have the time of their lives watching._

_One of them snorted, she had the big shears. Atropos, she who cuts the thread. _

_I sighed, "Uh… why am I here exactly?"_

_Like yes, they are some sort of family. I think they are my great-something aunts. If my dad is who I think he is, and I'm pretty confident, then yeah. I think._

"_You'll hurt your head thinking about it," one said dismissively, she was sitting in front a beautiful spindle. Clotho, she who spins the thread._

"_And you are here because we are going to give you a gift," the one in the middle said. She was holding a scroll. Lachesis, the measurer of the thread._

"_Um, not to be rude, but," I began. "Divine gifts, or gifts in general really, are not given for free. What do you want in return? And shouldn't I have to _prove _myself or some shit?"_

_They looked at each other, and Clotho raised an eyebrow at the others, as if saying _ha! see, I told you so_, with pride and triumph. Okay._

"_You already have," they said in unison this time. "One too many times, daughter of the sea."_

"_So, the gift, I suppose, is to help me in the… non-mortal world?" I ignored the last part. Not now. Victory dance later._

"_Yes," they agreed. "No mortal has ever been given such ability, therefore it might be… painful at first. But you are already asleep, so… hopefully it won't be _as _excruciating as it would have been were you awake."_

_Not _as _excruciating. Wonderful. "And would you… I don't know, tell me what that gift is."_

_They smirked, "And what would be the fun in that?" _

_Dammit. Of course not. I sighed._

"_So…-" I'm ADHD, sue me. "- What now?"_

"_The gift is implementing itself in you now," they replied._

"_Pardon?"_

"_It's downloading."_

"_That… makes no sense whatsoever."_

"_If we gave it to you all at once," they paused for dramatic effect, I guess. Are all immortals like that? "Your brain would shatter then combust."_

_Hmm. Lovely. "When does the pain kick in…?"_

"_When you wake up. You'll have a migraine. The intensity depends. It is our first time."_

_Silence. Uncomfortable silence, for me atleast. I groaned and plopped down on the floor. They chuckled._

"_Can I call you aunties?"_

"_Um…," they seemed genuinely surprised. "No one has ever acknowledged us as family before."_

"_Well, you are," I answered honestly. "Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten. And I don't mean Odysseus Nobody, okay?" It's one of my favorite quotes. And no, it's not childish. Family is precious and should be cherished. Even if cherished means kicking their ass when they are being retarded._

_They smiled a warm, soft smile. "You can call us… aunties."_

"_I was gonna do it anyway," I said offhandedly. "So, what do ya do around here? Besides messing up people's lives."_

_They raised an eyebrow but didn't comment._

"_You seriously do nothing else?" They shook their heads. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"_

_Fuck. Poor, poor aunties. I shook my head and sighed. "Next time I'm here, we're doing renovations."_

"_What makes you think you'll coming again?" They asked, almost amused but curious._

"_You," I answered. "You said I was your 'Favored'. Plus, like I said before, you, my bitches, are family. I'd bet my shiny-diamond-trophy that, no matter how close you three are, you want to rip each others' throats out from time to time. And boredom. Boredom is really boring." They shook their heads amusedly._

"_Off you go then," they said as the scene began to fade. "Oh, and as for your gift, it will start at… level one? Hm, yeah, level one is a good way of putting it. The more you practice with and use it the more stronger it'll get." I don't think I was supposed to hear them murmuring, or not. They could've waited until I left, "You already are developing your powers at a faster rate than most of your knid."_

"_Very subtle aunties," I grinned. "And I'm just cool like that." I blew them a kiss._

They sent me a smirk just as I woke up.


	6. I Ask Myself What Am I Doing Here

**Disclaimer: The title is from Alessia Cara's Here.**

CHAPTER 6: I Ask Myself What Am I Doing Here

I woke up feeling like my head was put in a blender inside a crocodile's mouth _while_ being flattened under an elephant.

And _oh my goddamn fucking gods it hurts!_

Yeah, _just a migraine_, they said, _it won't be as excruciating_, they said.

I reached blindly beside me and found a cup, of what, I do not know. My head hurt to much to open my eyes.

I gulped down the drink without a thought, then just as quickly, I almost spit it out. It wasn't bad, _far_ from bad. It was just startling. And- _mmmm,_ Mom's infamously glorious blue cookie goodness.

Honestly, I didn't care that it was liquid. I swallowed it down quickly. Mom's cookies already made me feel good, mentally and often physically. (Don't ask.) But, this… my migraine, almost immediately, went away. I sighed in relief.

And- _fuck!_\- memories of my _previous?_ night hit me like a chick on a Black Friday sale.

Not pleasant, trust me.

Mrs. Dodds, Grover, Mr. Brunner- _Chiron?_\- and Mom. Oh, my god- gods _Mom_…

I knew she wasn't dead. But still… it hurt thinking that she just- _poof-_ disappeared.

Oh, and apparently Uncle Hades wasn't the only one who something precious of his was stolen. Uncle Zeus also had something stolen from him. And my… father was blamed for it, and just by being his daughter so am I.

_Yes, uncles._ The Fates _did _call me '_daughter of the sea'_ afterall. Poseidon_, _god of the Sea, Stormbringer, Earthshaker, Father of horses, and the list goes on and on, was my father. And he is _so_ getting an ass-beating, god or not.

Gods can't cross into another god's domain without permission, or interfere directly in mortal affairs- _well, more like won't, unless they feel like it. And the whole mortal-affair-is-a-big-no-no is so damn hypocritical. I mean, hello, I exist, and I know I ain't the only one_\- they usually tend to send demigods to do their dirty work. Or work in general.

So -_bam!_\- I get hunted by Furies, a Minotaur, get struck by lightning, and my Mom taken hostage, all in one hella-messed-up day.

After a couple minutes of throwing thoughts around and snuggling into the first bed I touched in three days, I came to a couple of realizations.

_One,_ Kýma wass on me though all my other weapons, except the balisongs in my hair, were on a chair across me. Seems like Kýma always returns to me.

_Two_, my two immortal uncles thought my father stole from them through me. And that makes me on their shitlist. Lovely.

_Three_, my army green sweater wasn't on me. I was wearing an _orange_ shirt. I felt vulnerable without it. I always have with me for… _good luck?_ But I _knew _it outside the room. Also, my combat boots were on my clean and folded short jeans on a chair across the room.

_Four_, I _will_ do anything to get Mom back. And, on the way, I'll be helping my hopeless uncles, and try and figure out who possibly wanted World War III. I had suspicions, but let us not jump into conclusions. Bad things usually happen that way.

_Finally_, I could… _I seriously don't know how to explain it_… see… sense an aura of things, apparently? Yes. For example: Kýma. since she was the closest thing to me I had on me, it was easier to see it.

Kýma was already breathtaking. But now? Now it was magnificent. Since she was made using at least five metals and lots of precious stones, Kýma glowed, yet sucked the light at the same time. Now, she looked like a frickin' light show.

She was surrounded by a thick sea green mist, with flecks of silver, gold, bronze, black, blue, and red appearing randomly. And often overpowering, but not to the sea green, when I brushed each corresponding metal or gem. It was mesmerising.

I blinked and it was… gone. I blinked again and it was there. Blink, it was gone, if I looked directly at it. But it was still there in my peripheral vision.

I concluded that it was always there, but I think that if I wanted it to be there clear and loud, it would. If I didn't want it distracting me, it was just in the corner of my eye.

_Sweet!_

I looked at everything around. Almost everything had an aura. It was fantastic and new and just… _exhilarating_.

I heard footsteps approaching and pretended I was asleep. My heart beat slowed down incase other individuals were as capable as my _satyr_ best friend, Grover. Still processing. Migraines suck ass.

"How is she doing?" The concerned voice of ex-Brunner drifted to me.

"She has amazing healing abilities," a young female voice said, she sounded too formal and serious for my liking. She needs loosening up. "According to Michael Yew, as soon as he washed the wounds, they began healing almost instantly. She seems to have an affinity towards water. Since even the bruises and the worst of her injuries reacted positively to the water. Though he did wrap them after putting an anti-infection paste on the worst of them.

"Though… there were other wounds. Older ones, and I'm not talking about the Kindly Ones' attack. Stab wounds, gunshot scars, scattered scratches everywhere, scorch marks, and Michael said that almost every bone in her body was fractured at some point… it's- I- it's unusual. But if you consider the arsenal she's carrying around, it makes sense.

"Most are almost completely healed, others barely visible. Michael did some anti-scarring hymns and applied creams. Something about bikinis.

"Her heart rates were a bit erratic at times and steady at others. But overall she seems stable for now. She should wake in a day or two. She did have one Hades of a concussion and lost a lot of blood," she finished her rant- _report_.

I could basically feel their eyes on me. My teacher didn't respond, but I knew he was curious about the battered minefield, aka my scarred skin, and how he didn't notice them before. Again, I'm just awesome like that.

"She's the one," the girl interrupted the silence. "Isn't she, Chiron?"

"Not now, child," he answered in his fatherly voice.

"What about the solstice deadline? Nothing's been normal since the Winter Solstice. And now the Summer Solstice is getting closer, and nothing is getting better, but worse," she was agitated. Apparently she hated not knowing. "Does she have anything to do with it?"

"Let us hope not," he sighed.

They left, _finally_. But I got to use my cool sensors. _Hey, I still haven't found a cool name, okay? Cut me some slack… judgy peeps._

Brunner- Chiron, what-the-fuck-ever, had a kind, warm brown aura. But I couldn't decide between a chocolate brown or a coffee brown. Both fitted his level-headed, fatherly and wise-beyond-ages personality. _Seems like coffee and chocolate are today's winners!_

The other girl however was harder to read. I think it's because I never met her. Though because of my line of expertise, I have to be and _am _good at reading people. So it only took a few tries to see the soft yet intense grey mist and bronze streaks, probably had to do with the dagger on her thigh- I sensed it too, subconsciously, and gut instincts-y. If the bronze was part of her aura that means she's probably wickedly good with it. My gut agreed.

Though after the speculation I needed water, it was exhausting trying to force it to show on people apparently. I had no damn problem with the bloody inanimate objects. But _of course _individuals would be harder.

_Thank you very much, aunties. _I swear I almost cringed from the copious amounts of sarcasm.

Okay, ADHD won over the heavenly bed. Sigh, and I was getting used to getting comfortable. The bed was just a regular cot with a comforter, but honestly even a stack of cattle munchies - hay- sounded pretty damn comfortable.

I knew many languages. Not all fun trip-missions were in dear ol' America. I even knew a couple dead ones, including Ancient Greek, which quite frankly is _way_ easier to read, write, and speak than all o' y'all's -_hehe_\- English. So I knew I was in Camp Half-Blood, according to the shirt.

Sounds a bit racist at first, if you ask me. But it is true. And there was a black pegasus under the writing and laurel wreaths around it all. Creative and fitting, I guess. Ugh, a migrane's on its merry way to town.

I redid my hair to a fishtail-braided-crown held by the butterfly balisongs on the side. Some stubborn strands ran loose around my face. I put my shoulder holster back on- it functioned as a bra, since mine apparently isn't anywhere to be seen- under the baggy, short-sleeved shirt, which I tied from the front and let one of the shoulders fall off the side.

I double checked my precious babies- my knives, daggers, guns, etc.- with my cool detecting power. _Still haven't thought of a good name. Shocker, yes_.

No one tampered with them, but some_ones_ definitely examined them thoroughly, except for precious Kýma. I put her in a thigh holster I found in one of the drawers in this room. The blue sea serpent's ruby eyes glinted in the light, _happily?_ I would sure hope so.

I scanned the floor with my assassin-y, spidey senses. _Hehe._ But no one was there.

I was on the first floor in an infirmary of some sort. I looked out the window. I was in the that big, baby-blue farmhouse. There was another floor, attic and basement.

After going through the basement and attic, I am convinced of these people's fetish for weird shit, creepy-ass mummies, and weapons. The later not very unexpected.

I decide to leave the second floor for last, gut-feeling. The first floor had two offices, the infirmary, a rec room, bathroom, _duh_, and kitchen, which meant rooms were one the second floor.

Second floor. Too many rooms to count. But I chose a Mr. D's room. Good choice.

_Eye aam confushan… What the fuck? How in the name of Doctor Who is this room- no, no, no chamber? Suite? Yeah, one of those fit in here?_

One foot was on the farmhouse's wood floors, the other was on a glowy ceramic tile.

_This is a portal of some sorts from this place to mysterious _Mr. D's _house, pardon me, his palace. But where is here?_

Mr. D turned out to be Dionysus, the wine dude, god of theater, banging, rad parties, and getting shit face drunk. My cousin. Hmm. I think I might find him cranky.

He had his signature in his big-ass bedroom almost everywhere. His aura's a multitude of purples and tiny flecks of other colors. But the rest of his house looked barely lived in, and there was some not-meant-for-me-but-for-him-obviously-duh barrier I passed when I left his room.

Nice wine collection he has. _Note to self, one on the way to keep the panic away._

I stepped out and- _holy fucking shit I'm on Olympus!_

It was beautiful, majestic all of it; the gardens, markets, the personalized palaces around, the simple and extravagant houses, the prominent golds and whites. A marble city of _goddamned awesomeness_.

But the air was tense. There was an especially nasty looking storm cloud above the highest point in the divine city. The throne room probably. You know, the place where I'll probably find the pissy gods.

Yes, find. After a debate between my logical, rational and irrational, illogical parts of my mind, where the illogical ruthlessly beat the logical part to a bloody pulp, I chose _fuck it, I'm going._

I was every bit Sally Jackson's daughter as I made my way silently through the city. I reached the edge, literally. A lovely more-than-a-mile-drop awaits right after fluffy clouds and mist, I think that shit holds the goddamned city in the fucking sky. What the hell?!

"Brother, please. Listen to reason," a soft, warm female voice drifted from the throne room.

"I have already made my decision, sister," a gruff voice, the same as bluey-toga from my sharknados-and-eagles-on-laxatives dream. Zeus. "If my bolt isn't returned to me by the Summer Solstice, it shall be war."

"But-," the soft female tried again but was cut off by murmurs.

Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Someone stole the Master Bolt. Oh, oh my. And remember the Solstice deadline the girl in the infirmary mentioned? Not cool, so not cool.

Now I _seriously_ need that bottle from Dio's wine cabinet. Maybe two, for me and whoever the hell I feel like joining me, for when I get back. That migraine was getting a bit much to ignore, and I didn't even use my _spidey senses_ here. I had a feeling I need a hella-lot of training to be able to see through my full vision here without getting overwhelmed. Peripheral vision's not helping any with Mig the migraine.

"_Ah, hell."_


	7. This Old World Is A New World

**Disclaimer: Title's from Michael Buble/ Nina Simone's Feeling Good**

CHAPTER 7: This Old World Is A New World

Confession time. I went back up to the hippie-mummy. Honestly, I felt sorry for the poor lass. She looked like she pissed off a pissy god. I put the two wine bottles besides the poor bitch.

"One day, I'm gonna give you one hell of a makeover," I promised. "You won't even know you died."

Hmm. I walked away ignoring the green smoke flickering in hippie's glassy eyes. _Not now._

On the porch my ex-Latin teacher was playing cards with a middle-aged, overweight cherub. Actually, it was a black haired college frat in purple bed sheets and grape vines. And- _oh fuck couldn't he stop doing that? One Mig is more than enough._

I peeked at their cards before plopping down on a chair, startling them.

I looked at the purple glowing dude, "_You_ are a sore loser."

He looked at me bewildered as if no one ever spoke to him like. _Well too bad, man._ And Chiron looked like he was seriously contemplating my sanity. Honestly, he _should_ be used to it already. _But alas, I still carry around the element of surprise._

Good.

"What," Purple managed.

I sighed and stood up behind him, took his cards, rearranged them, and gave them back. I waved to them to present their cards. Purple won, and both looked shocked.

"I'm guessing you don't win very often."

Both grunted.

"Well, my dude, if you have hands like that one all the time, you're one hell of a dumb fuck."

"And pray tell," Purple drawled angrily. "What would you know about Pinochle."

I raised an eyebrow, _I just literally won you a game in one move_, and replied, "Honestly, what civilized being wouldn't know about Pinochle?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Chiron, "I think I might tolerate the brat, Chiron. Who is she again?"

_The bitch who's gonna make you pay for that comment._

"Mr. D, that's Percillia Jackson. The student I had to make a homecall for," he answered.

"I always wondered what happened to Mrs. Duran." The glint in Chiron's eyes told me enough, and I smirked. "Nice."

"Well, I guess I have to say this," Mr. D, aka Dionysus, my drunk cousin, gave a long_, way too long_, suffering sigh. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, brat. Don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Oh, you should be thrilled, not just happy," I drawled crossing my feet on the now empty table.

"I don't think it wise to behave like that child," Chiron said slowly. "You see this is-"

"Dionysus, I know," I cut him off. "The whole grape vines and Thyrsus give it away. Nice to meet you, cousin dearest."

They both looked shocked, _again_. "What exactly do you _see_, brat?" Dio asked curiously now.

I told him about his alternating forms and the fierce purple glow around him. And I noticed that I didn't even have my _full vision_ on. But that's for me to know, and them to find out.

They both went silent. I sighed, _seriously_. I just wanted to take out my phone and listen to music.

"You should be dead," Dio finally said.

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "Not the first time I heard this sentence. As fuked up as that sounds."

"What?" Chiron was deeply… something. I just don't know what yet.

"Chiron, despite all your perceptiveness and incredible senses, you never noticed my scars. And I never actually bothered to hide them, at least not for a trained eye," I pointed at my exposed stomach and legs. _I was wearing shorts, wankers_.

Chiron nodded but looked saddened. _Whatever. At least it's not pity. I hope._

"And why should I be dead? I like to keep my near death encounters updated," I looked at my cousin.

"You saw my divine form, which would have incinerated any mortal," he tried to hide his curiosity. Considering he is the god of theater, he was one fuck-up of an actor. And a liar.

"Huh…" Seeing as I had no clue what that is I just nodded. "So what exactly is Camp Half-Blood?"

"A safe haven for demigods. I'm the activities director while Mr.D is the camp's director," Chiron said slowly, as if afraid to freak me out or some shit. I guess I freaked him out with my lack of reaction.

_Did he seriously expect me to go around running like a chicken with a chopped-off head, or deny it? I'm gonna go with denial._

"Dreams can be very enlightening." _Fuck you, aunties!_ "And fucked up. Definitely fucked up."

Dio conjured a glass of wine, but- just as I expected- it disappeared. He was banned from his very own element. _Harsh._ Seems like a dumb Zeus thing to do. It also explains his unused house, he's probably exiled from Olympus too. _Again, harsh._

"Your restrictions, Mr.D," Chiron said while shuffling the cards, I promised I would kick their asses. Besides it's time for gambling. The winner gets whatever. Stupid, but it is a blind-check gamble. It only makes it sweeter.

I was cackling. I won, "Suck on that bitches!"

I now had two depts to collect when I wanted. We talked a bit, discussing the camp's _activities_. I absolutely loved those. I think I looked on crack after Chiron explained about the arena.

They explained Dio's punishment. Honestly, I wasn't surprised that it was because his dick was where it wasn't supposed to be. Poor dryad. Like father like son. _Fuckboys_…

He explained the whole cabin system and about the unclaimed and the Hermes cabin. It made my blood boil.

_Fuck neglectful parents and double fuck divine asshole parents to Alaska and back twice… _

"Hey Dio," I pulled his attention away from his cards. We were playing _Go Fish, _and I was wiping the floor with their asses. _Anyway._ "When was the last time you had wine."

He pouted. Yup, the great god of wine Dionysus pouted. He was also in a human form close to his divine form, it was doing wonders for my nearly-non-existent migraine. "A while. A long-ass while. My ban is that I cannot make and drink wine."

_Ah, loopholes, one of my favorite things in life,_ "I don't think it mentioned anything about someone _else_ making them, did it?" I tried to sound innocent, but I failed. _Miserably_.

I liked Dio. He was actually a very nice person once you get over his I-don't-give-a-flying-rat's-ass-attitude, and his insistence on calling me Nixie. And I knew my smirk borderlined maniacal.

"No," his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. "No it never did say that, did it Chiron?"

Chiron just laughed and shook his head, I think he was secretly glad the bitch-on-her-period camp director is not as… _bitchy_.

I got a bottle from beside Sabrina the hippie-mummy. Everyone deserves a name. _Yes, even dead, hippie mummies_.

"Why, Nixie?" Dio's eyes were twitching, and he spoke… sufferingly. "Why?"

"I woke up in an unfamiliar environment. Me, the most ADHD person you might ever meet. I got curious," I poured him a glass.

_Technically, I made it, the straw is drinking it. He was just swallowing. Nothing against swallowing. I hope. And that does not sound weird. At all. Moving On… _

He sighed in complete bless, probably forgetting the fact I was in his palace.

I clinked glasses with Chiron as I kept filling up my drunkard-of-a-cousin's glass.

"I'm seriously glad you stopped pausing at my every action."

"With you, child, sooner or later I'll have to learn to go with the flow. Better sooner than later," Chiron chuckled. "You're as unpredictable as the sea."

"And ain't that irony at its finest."

He shook his head, "It is the truth though."

Dio was almost at the point of wagging his not-there-tail and drooling.

"You okay, cuz?"

He just mumbled some incoherent words.

"Yup, he's all fine and dandy."

We talked a bit more. The dude's my centaur uncle, people. _Nice_

Also, I'll be staying in Cabin Eleven, with all the Unclaimed. I had no problem with that.

I kicked Dio. _Hard._ Someone was coming and he wanted to keep up his douchebag rep. So he went back to trailer-park-sumo-with-a-mid-life-crisis. And I yeeted the bottle away.

_Hehe, yeeted._

"Ah, Annabeth dear," Chiron greeted, completely ignoring us. "This young lady watched over you last night Perci."

Ah, the one with the grey and bronze aura. The blond looked at me, trying to get a read on me. _Good luck with that_. Dio gave up after a while, and Chiron's '_going with flow.'_

"You drool in your sleep," she finally said.

"I like you, Annie," I said chuckling.

"Don't call me that."

"Good luck with that, Annibel," Douchebag drawled. "She is as hard headed as a mule."

I kicked him in his family jewels this time. He gave me the evil eye, but I ignored it in favor of looking at Annie's reaction. It was worth it.

_Poor gal thought we were all getting incinerated_. If that happened I promised to haunt him as a ghost for my afterlife. He said I can't. I gave him the bird and told him to fuck himself on his acorn-on-a-stick-Thyrsus. I'm doing that.

Chiron just sighed, and looked at the wide eyed blonde, "Would you inform Cabin Eleven that they'll be needing a new bunk ready?"

"One day, that attitude will get you killed," Dio wheezed.

I smiled like the Cheshire pussy, "Probably."

I stood up and grabbed Annabeth's arm and proceeded to walk across the very impressive camp after sending my most mature uncle and wayward cousin a, "See ya later my bitches."

I ran towards the _fuck-alicious_ Lava-spitting, Rock-falling, Dangerous-as-hell Climbing wall.

I pouted as Annabeth dragged me by my collar, and glared at her. Props to her for not flinching, but I didn't use the full force of my glare. She's too young for trauma.

"Oi, I wanna try a life threatening activity. Come on Annie."

"Not until you're situated you aren't," she glared at me. Her eye twitched from my baby seal eyes. She groaned and looked away. Stubborn bitch. _Nice._

"Well, well… if it isn't our resident newbie."


	8. You're In The Jungle, Baby!

**Disclaimer: The title is from Guns N' Roses' Welcome to the Jungle.**

CHAPTER 8: You're In The Jungle, Baby!

"Well, well, _well_… if it isn't the resident bitch," I said. Everyone heard and stopped. Huh.

"We have an initiation ceremony for newbies, punk," the bitch said angrily.

She was well built, short brown hair, reddish-brown eyes, camo pants and jacket, red bandanna, electric spear on her back… Her scarlet aura- with bronze, she's good with weapons, and the barely there electric spark, her spear- matched the bruttish red cabin with a boar's head, barbed wires, a _bloody_ aura, and one _nasty_ paint job. Ares.

That just took a second to observe.

"Oh, you mean dunking my head into the toilet?" I asked innocently looking at the bathroom. "That's just fucking retarded."

"What'd ya say, punk?" Her posse banged their fists behind her _threateningly_.

_Ooh, I'm am terrified._

"I said," I said slowly. "That is retarded. Overused. Old. Stereotypical. There are many other ways to assert your dominance."

"Better, watch what you say, punk," she was barely holding back. "I could pulverize you."

I ignored Annabeth and all the gathered spectators. I _hate_ bullying.

"First," I began cooly. "My name's Percillia Jackson, not punk. But I prefer Perci. Now about the whole _pulverize _me deal," I raised my hand stopping her. "_You_, better than anyone else, should know the consequences of underestimating your opponent… _Daughter of War."_

A hush fell over the place. They were all staring at me incredulously.

"And what would you know?" she asked scathingly. I didn't flinch, but others did, including her siblings.

"More than you would think," I said darkly, before putting on a cheeky smile. "Now. considering you are the head of your siblings' cabin, you probably are responsible for training your warriors or soldiers here. Eh?"

Chiron, as activities director, explained much during Dio's hallelujah moment.

She nodded, slowly. I walked up to her and slung an arm around her shoulders. I am _tiny_ compared to her. Where she had a wrestler's- muscles and all- body, I had a swimmer or a runner's lithe physique.

I steered her towards the arena.

"Nice place," I complemented. "So, instead of humiliating _newbies_ you could test them while showing them who's boss on your home turf. You get to see your soldiers' abilities, therefore making the process of training them more easier and beneficial for both parties."

"Not bad newbie," she appraised.

We both shook hands- she _finally_ told me her name, Clarisse La Rue- then stood at opposite ends of the Arena. We had an audience. The seats were near full.

"How do you suggest to do this, Prissy?"

"Well, La Rue, we start easy then…" I shrugged.

I ignored the bets going around. Most went for La Rue. A couple on me.

_Well, some are about to be fucking broke. _

"Don't you need a weapon?" she yelled.

"I have all I need."

I gave my hoodie to Annabeth at some point. I hid Kýma. She's only there as a last resort. I undid my braids into two dutch braids with the balisongs at the end.

_Damn, I have some long-ass hair_.

"How about we start off with hand-to-hand?" I yelled. She nodded.

She took her spear and changed it to two scarlet, leather, fingerless gloves. The knuckles had claws with electricity bouncing on it every now and then.

She looked smug as I inspected hers.

_Well, too bad sweetheart._

I took out my own black leather gloves with black spikes. I looked at them. _I wonder…_

_Yes!_ They lit on fire. Turquoise blue fire. Which didn't hurt me. _Sweet._

Would the other Furies' weapons change the color of the fire too? _Not now._

I looked up at Clarisse. I raised an eyebrow. A challenge.

She smirked. _Bring it on, bitch._

She made the first move.

There was a flurry a punches, kicks, flips, head locks, burns, electrocution, _gymnastics_, bending, jumping, and adrenaline. _Lots of it._ It was also why despite the blood everywhere and gashes and all the shit we weren't in a corner licking our _boo-boo's_ okay.

Now she had me pinned in the ground under her. Her claw's at my throat and above my heart running with electricity. She wore a feral grin.

_Oh, well._

The next moment I was on top of her. My flaming hands holding her head between my thighs and at her throat. _I love adrenaline_. Because as she ignored the scorching, I ignored the electricity that felt so uncomfortable running through me at my thighs.

I jumped off of her. And rolled in the sand and landed in a crouch. I grinned too. A bloody terrifying grin by others' standards.

The crowd was _wild_. And at some point Dio and Chiron joined to watch. Our Audience was exponentially larger. And-

More… gods were there. My sensors and instincts were going haywire. Focusing on them will get me tired, and I just started. I'll sort through my thoughts later.

I looked back at Clarisse. She is enjoying this as much as I am. _Very, very much_.

Time to take this a little level higher. I had my _black,_ flaming mace. The fire was a blue, like my gloves.

Clarisse's gloves were now mirroring mine except, for her mace being scarlet and with electricity. _Perks of being the god of war's daughter? Probably._

With a cry, we both attacked at the same time. And _damn_, if the firey, electric shockwave wasn't impressive. Over the maces' _X_ form we both grinned at each other.

I pushed her back and swung the mace at her stomach as I barely avoided her strike.

_Jump, swing, parry, bam!_ She slid on the sand backwards from my hit to her stomach. A large scorch mark was added to my abstract decoration of her abdomen.

She just got up and threw her mace at me so fast it caught me in the chest.

_And- I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky… _

I flipped mid air and landed on my hands and feet. Coughing up blood.

I spit it out and grinned at her.

_Oh, how I just love adrenaline. Have I said that before? Well, I'll be repeating it a lot then._

She mirrored my same bloody expression. I threw her mace back, ignoring the electricity- _must work like my blue fire-_ and she caught it.

This time when I stood up, my mace had its axe companion. Both flaming and deadly black. I didn't have to look before as she now had both as she came at me.

We exploded in too many blows and hits. Overhead strikes, upward ones, slash, slide, jump, swipe, hit, bam, spit blood, and shuffle repeat. _Bam, bang, clang, swish, sting!_

If the audience was wild before, now it was _savage._ More bets were flying around, people taking sides. I noticed in the corner of my eyes a colorful barrier around the Arena.

_Good. No-one gets into the middle of the crossfire._

I parried her mace, swinging my axe at her stomach. We both kept ignoring the fire and electricity forces, though both _fucking hurt_. I jumped back and turned my weapons into the black ring bands on each middle finger.

"You got a gun option on yours?" I asked, spitting blood. She nodded.

I took out my colt in my right and a bronze dagger in my left. And despite being covered in blood I had sturdy grips on both.

_Bang, bang, bang…_ Bullets were flying through the air. Special glowy bullets. Sometimes they found their target. Sometimes they deflected off of the daggers in our hands. We were both good aims. And I'm pretty sure there is a bullet somewhere in my thigh… _Ouch._

We slashed and shot and _damn I'm flexible._

I was enjoying this, _very damn much_. Finally standing with someone on equal grounds.

After two rounds of ammo and, despite the barrier, a kid getting shot from the stands, we got bored with guns. _This ain't the Old West, partner._

She turned her weapons into a sword. I was lacking in those. I mean, I'm pretty good with one though none seemed balanced.

I looked to my right… because. My eyes met a pair of familiar sea green ones. My father… He patted his pocket.

I nodded with a raised eyebrow. _The fuck happened to no meddling?_

He winked, his eyes gaining a mischievous quality, and disappeared back into the shadow he was in.

I put my hand in my pocket and, a _very ordinary pen_ was in my hand. I uncapped it.

_Beautiful._ Glowy bronze, greek xiphos, leaf blade, bedazzled hilt, and _Anaklusmos_ in Greek engraved into the blade. Ooh, it's balanced! _Again, beautiful._

It wouldn't be the first time a mysterious beach hobo appears, dropping glowy weapons that _somehow_ end up finding their merry way back to me. _How the fuck did you think I got glowy weapons in the_ mortal _world? _The man just never had the balls to actually _talk_.

He's still most definitely getting an ass-whoop.

I turned back when there was a swing at my midsection. Oh, you dirty, dirty player… I'll show you dirty….

But first, thank you: Instincts, ADHD and adrenaline. According to the spectators, I caught phrases that indicate me resembling a demon in every way- the blood, abnormal fire, pain-tolerance, arsenal, skill, and style. _Yeah… demon, huh? Could've been worse._

Now, though I lacked in strength- compared to Clarisse at least (_this bitch is fucking ripped!_)- I was more skilled with a sword than her. I caught a blind spot and slashed at her waist and jumped backward before she could retaliate. We were dancing, a graceful and deadly dance. Our swords collided more often than not.

Now, pay back for the dirty move. She started the match, I'm ending it. On my terms.

The next minute Clarisse was on her face in the ground. My braids around her neck, the butterfly wings of the balisongs now open with both blades at her neck. Alecto's former flaming, black-material whip, now with blue fire, was around her torso and legs. An glowy bronze knife at the base of her spine and, Kýma above her heart and spine…

Clarisse knew that one move, _just one fucking move_, and a couple unpleasantries would… take place.

Her neck would be slit at her jugular and trachea, her body would be sliced in two, a dagger would make her permanently crippled, paralyzed, or dead, and finally, Kýma would pierce right through her spine and into her heart.

"How about this?" I whispered lowly for only her. "You yield, and at the end of the day, we meet and have some of Mr.D's fine wine?"

The audience was in one hell of an anticipatory silence.

"I yield," her voice was loud and clear.

The audience was silent for a couple of beats before-

_Fucking hell!_ _I think I lost a motherfucking eardrum. Owww!_

We both shook hands. Bitch now has my respect.

"Nice spar, Prissy," she smirked and spat blood beside her. I raised an amused eyebrow. I think we could be great friends…

And- _oh, godsdamn, motherfucking hell!_

"This is the part I hate most you know," I said casually. "When the adrenaline rush, blood loss, and injuries get to you."

The adrenaline was leaving at amazing speeds. _Traitor._ Blood loss was seriously not so good. I can't use my powers, or I'll expose my heritage. Since Poseidon didn't claim me, yet, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he has a damn well convincing reason why the hell he's not claiming me now. But we'll see…

And I'm still bleeding out and the fucking crowd is still chaotic.

"Don't you, like, have medics or some shit here."

"The Apollo kids, their father's the god of healing."

"You know, if you're still up for the drinks later, tell me when I wake up."

She barely nodded before we dragged each other to a shady place and proceeded to pass out.

I passed out. A-_fucking_-gain. It must be a record. Twice in one sleep-deprived week. _Fuck-oww_.


	9. Must've Done Something Right

**Disclaimer: The song Perci sang is a Ukrainian lullaby, Luli. And the title is from the Jonas Brothers' Cool.**

CHAPTER 9: Must've Done Something Right

"… I mean, what in _Hades _were you thinking! Do you know how dangerous and irresponsible and _impulsive _of you to- to go and challenge Clarisse like that! I only know you for less than twenty-four hours and I am _already _playing babysitter… _Ugh!"_

Annie's been lecturing me for the last half hour. She barged into the Big House Infirmary, dumped a water bucket on my head, and began her non-ending rant.

Oh, I met my doc, Michael Yew. Nice guy. He had black hair and brown eyes and was my age. And I guess I gave him an aneurysm before I left him. He was cursing me to Hades and back… in Ancient Greek.

_To bad buddy, I am already planning a trip to visit dear old Uncle Hades. _But he didn't need to know that.

And we had a fight. Multiple ones.

"You have a _bullet_ sealed into your thigh! And you just want me to ignore it while _you _take it out? No!"

And-

"Godsdammit! Just let me check your wounds and makes sure they weren't infected… What… No… Just… _Argh_!"

And the last thing he said before I hightailed out-

"You can't fucking put a _blue bandage over a fucking gun wound!_ No, no, no! Sit the fuck back down! You can't just fucking leave like that! Oh my gods! Why the Hades did I ever accept this- this-_Ugh!_ I am _never _taking a shift for you Will, never again!"

The blue bandage was under the short-short jean shorts Silena Beauregard, a pretty brunette daughter of Aphrodite, gave me. Mine were literally bloody and smoking strips a fabric.

I still had my army, green hoodie on. And the pen Poseidon gave me was in my pocket. I'll have to _really _take a look at it some time. Along with my remaining arsenal.

We reached Cabin Eleven.

And I was _not_ impressed. Seriously, this place did _not_ look like a place where fucking children of gods should live.

The place looked like worn down wooden cabin. Or like a place mauled by a bear. Or rabid dogs. Take your pick. It was old, shabby, with paint peeling. But the place was homey…. I don't know why either.

It had high rafters, a couple dozen beds, and lots, _lots_ of sleeping bags. The place was a mess of auras, unlike other cabins where all colors were either different shades of a color or just compatible colors that _feel_ related.

Here, here… it was fucked up. Like, what the hell is an Ares kid doing here? Demeter? Hell even kids of minor gods were in here!

Though I could tell the Unclaimed from, the claimed. The claimed kids' auras where more pronounced and bright.

I literally did something… so ADHD, impulsive, and just… whacked up that indicated just how much I need sleep and not blackouts.

"Nope, nope, hell no, nope, nuh-uh, nope, fucking no, nope," I mumbled as I grabbed random Unclaimed kids and dragged them outside the fucked up cabin with a Caduceus to their right cabins. I ignored everyone's 'What the Hades!' and 'Where the fuck are you taking me?' and Annabeth's tortured 'Why are you like this….'

After all the Unclaimed with cabins out of the way, I turned to the other kids of minor kids and grouped them according to parent.

I seriously wanted to sleep. When was the last fucking time I slept for the sake of sleeping and not blacking out? I don't know.

I just knew that my impulse control was completely absent. And that everyone left in the now considerably more comfortably empty cabin was staring at me in either fear, awe or curiosity.

I stood back beside Annie. "What?" I snapped, rather rudely, and raised an eyebrow. "Creeps. The wittwe kitty ate your tongues."

A seventeen-year-old blond, with blue eyes and a _wicked_ scar on his face, _finally _had the gut to speak. _Pussys_. "Who are you?"

"I am your father, Luke."

He raised an eyebrow. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue. What the _hell_ is wrong with me?

"Well, then, I'll start," he began, his eyes shone with amsment. Fucker. "Luke Castellan, son of Hermes. Councilor of Cabin Eleven."

I giggled a bit, and _again_ resisted the urge to repeat what said before. _Hehe… _

"Fine," I sighed. I know I might be bitchy _sometimes_, but who knew sleep-deprivation could make you more bitchy? "Percilia Jackson. But it's Perci. For everyone."

"What the Hades was that?" Annie seemed to finally wrestled her tongue out of the kitty's grip.

"What was what?"

"That."

"What?"

"What you just did."

"Which was 'that'?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Ugh, you're infuriating!"

"I know," I smirked.

"So," Luke cut Annabeth off. Smart. "You _do_ know what you just did. Right, Perci?"

Before I could answer, a Caduceus glowed over several of the Unclaimed in the Hermes group. (And I have no idea why they stayed that way…)

"Okay, what _is _that glowy shit?" Glowy signs just kept popping as I dropped kids of at cabins. Which got everyone gasping. And not-so-sneaky glances at me. Just like now.

"That," Luke pointed at the fading symbol. "Is getting claimed."

Oh. Ooh. _Ooh_. Okay. What now?

"So?" Even as I said that I knew it was a big deal. A Big big deal. The now Claimed looked so happy.

Even those Unclaimed in groups trusted that they were sorted with their siblings.

It was nice. The gloomy and melancholic cabin, now looked so happy and bright. Some even came and hugged me. _That_ was… peculiar. I'm not against physical contact, the opposite in fact. It's just I normally have those _if-you-come-near-me-I'll- decapitate-you _vibes, and people just choose to turn away.

Even in my insomniac state, I smiled.

At some point Annie left to report to the old horse and drunk, or some shit like that. Everyone else was celebrating and talking to their new found siblings and friends.

I sighed and snuggled into my hoodie as I slid down the wall. I hugged my knees to my chest.

"You have no idea what you've done, have you?" Luke settled beside me. His tone left me a little confused. I mean he had a smile on his face, but… There was anger under too many onion layers. Sometimes I hate that I can read people so well.

His aura although, a soft and soothing baby blue had an _ugly _and _repulsive_ golden haze near his head. He _is_ a good guy that was being manipulated. Just another problem to notch in my belt.

"I didn't realize I was such a bad guy," I said softly.

"What? No," He answered softly, though a little bewildered.

"You're angry, Luke."

"You have no idea how happy I am for all of them. Nor do you have any idea what you just did to all the Unclaimed, how important you made them feel, how you made them feel like they belong," his voice was soft. He loves them all like family.

I hummed in response. He had more to say, but he needed a nudge.

He sighed, "It's just… Sometimes a demigod is instantly Claimed. Sometimes it takes longer. And sometimes it never happens, Perci. Now… you basically told the gods what to do. You put them in a position where they can't ignore us. You forced them to not ignore us. They go around having affairs left and right and leave us, demigods, to die. Do you know how _rare_ it is for a demigod to reach adulthood? Way too rare for anyone's good. Most of us die before we even _reach _Camp. We get picked off by monsters. If not that, then it's a god's fucking quest. The gods, they don't love us… We're just there to play pawns. For them to use. They, they…."

By now everyone was outside, something about a dinner horn. _Conch shell, fucktards_. Only Luke and I were left in the cabin.

He was crying silently. I didn't have the heart to make fun of his daddy issues. There was so much _anger_ and _frustration_. It was heartbreaking. I put his head into my lap and ran my fingers through his hair. It's a soothing gesture. Always works like a charm.

I hummed a soft lullaby, Mom used to sing it to me after an especially, bloody mission.

I soon started singing,

"_Ay Lu Lu Li Lulli_

_Na Lai Çili Vulli_

_Na Lai Çili Vulli_

_Tai Silli Na Lulli_

_Stali Do Ma Tia Dat_

_Çim Did Yat Ko Gadovaht_

_Çi Buble Tçka çi Met Con_

_çi Solot Ki Moloç Ko_

_Mi Buble Tçka Cupit_

_Ay Me Dotçok Flupim_

_Ay Kaş Kima Vari_

_Ay Malatçkasparim_

_Colisotçka Ri Ri_

_A Di Tin Kah Spit Spiit_

_Kohl Misatçka Ne Ne Stala_

_A Di Tii Naç Kolune Stala"_

"Hmm," he had his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. "You have a beautiful, comforting voice."

"So, I've been told," I answered, still running my hand through his hair. He was just an angry kid. I noticed the golden haze lessen. Not disappear, just lessen.

"What language was that?"

"It's a Ukrainian lullaby, Luli. I'm surprised you didn't know," I said in a soft teasing voice.

"And why in Hades would I know Ukrainian?"

"Your father is the god of merchants, roads, and traveling, all of which include more than one language. You would at least have tiny clue."

"You know who your godly parent is, don't you?"

I hummed.

"I'm guessing you're keeping it to yourself."

"Yup. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise of my claiming. Knowing who my father is, it might get dramatic and over the top."

"Looking forward to it then." He gained a mischievous glint, "I'd like to see you being embarrassed by your dad."

"You're a terrible person," I said shoving his head off my lap.

"Come on, kiddo," the fucking bastard said, ruffling my hair. He _ruffled _my hair.

I hissed and swatted his hand away, "_Fucker_."

"My, my, what potty mouth you got there."

"Better to cuss you out with, _honey_."

"Ouch," he stepped back and put a hand on his heart.

Even though the cabin was considerably less full than when I first barged in, there were still not enough beds. So, genius me suggested a hammock. He looked at me funny.

After I dumbed it down for him, we ended up tying a blanket to the rafters. '_Yes, I could get down safely, Luke' _and '_No, Luke, I won't fall off in the middle of the night.'_ He stole me a comforter and a couple pillows, also some toiletries.

It never fails to amuse me, _a male blushing while holding tampons like they're explosives_.

We were- _I_ was laughing as we left the cabin to the dining pavilion.

"Shut the fuck up, kitten."

"Now why would I do that, idiot."

"You're impossible," he sighed.

"I know."

We reached the dining pavilion. Twelve table for the twelve cabins. Oh, and it was almost night time, dusk, I think.

"Do they always take this long to settle down?" Seriously, people were still standing around. Chiron was trying to bring order to the chaotic demigods.

"Trav, Con what's happening?" Luke asked his brothers, who were standing around. The pair were almost identical. Brunettes with elfish features. One was taller than the other, and a couple more unnoticeable details.

"The newly Claimed are too overwhelmed," one shrugged.

"Poor fuckers," the other continued. Luke went with the rest of the senior counselors to help Chiron.

They noticed me.

"Ah, Perci, we were wondering, when we'd meet you."

"I'm Travis Stoll," said the tall one.

"And I'm Connor Stoll."

"Thank you, for making us rich," they said together. "It was a risk that paid off."

"Ah, so _you're _the fuckers throwing around bets," I nodded gravely.

"You're one to talk," they grumbled, pouting.

"And why is that?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for one, you took out the Kindly Ones on your own," Travis ticked a finger.

"The Minotaur," Connor ticked off another.

"You out matched _fucking Clarisse_."

"You already have an arsenal of magical weapons people would kill for."

"And last but not least, you got demigods claimed, godsdammit."

"I see the grapevines are thriving here," I mumbled.

Luke came back and everyone took a seat at their designated table. _At least my ass isn't falling off._ I was squished between Luke and Travis.

I groaned, "Does no one in this godsforsaken place have common sense?"

They raised an eyebrow.

"Couldn't gods afford longer tables," I huffed as I gave up and just plopped on Luke's lap. "I'm not getting squished any further."

"You have no boundaries," Luke said more than asked. The Stolls snickered.

I laid my legs on their laps, "Nope."

They all grumbled. "Hey, cheer up. It means I like you, little bros."

"You are literally the youngest of the four of us," Connor grumbled, though a smile was on all their faces.

"Technicalities," I said dismissively. They laughed. Fuckers.

Food appeared on the empty plates _Harry Potter_ style. Briskets and rolls and fresh, juicy fruit… _mmmm._

My stomach decided whale mating sounds was a _splendid_ idea. I hid my face in my hands.

"When was the last time you ate something?" Concern and amusement waring in Luke's voice.

"Speaking of, when was the last time you _slept_?" Connor asked.

"You got target, hag eye's," Travis put in.

"The fuck are target, hag eyes?" I asked. They looked at me. I looked back.

Seems that power in numbers works well, _and I was tired, okay?_

"Last thing I ate was my Mom's heavenly, blue cookies yesterday morning," I grumbled. "And four days without sleep. Unless losing consciousness from blood loss and lacerations twice today is considered a siesta," I finished sweetly.

Before they could answer, I stood up from their laps like everyone else and looked at them curiously, "I'm guessing this is not for desert."

Luke walked beside me, as the Stolls ran away '_not wanting the food to get colder_.'

"They're offerings for the gods," he said as he threw the reddest apple in the fire. He murmured _Hermes_. "They like the smell."

"Of burned food?" I raised my eyebrow. But _actually… _it smelled _fiiine_. Damn.

Hm, I wonder.

I dropped an apple. I decided to think my words instead of saying them out loud.

_Dear Poseidon… fuck you. You're a fucking god! Not some mortal who's pride won't affect the world's fucking wellbeing! You do not keep fucking silent while your pissy, little brother declares World War III! You didn't steal either of your brothers' power symbol, then fucking say it. And don't act like a pretty, pink princess, and sit on your ass doing nothing expecting the world to make it better. Oh, and thanks for the sword/pen. Love the irony. See ya!_

Dio and Chiron looked from the crashing waves, to the thundering sky, to me and sighed while shaking their heads when I shrugged and smirked. Oh and I gave my drunk cousin a one finger salute.

So it does work. They hear me.

I threw warm rolls for my Uncle Hades and Aunt Hestia. I didn't think they got enough attention.

_Take care of my mother, Uncle. Please. And hang in there. And please don't jump into conclusions, though I know how hard that might be. Just… take care of yourself._

_Thank you, Aunt Hestia, for being the only one who stood up to your idiotic brothers when everyone else screamed 'fight'. _

I walked back and sat on my comfy couch of three laps, which '_oomfed'_ apparently.

Oh, there were cool cups that filled up with whatever you wanted. Except alcohol. Bugger. I got blue lemonade.

We ate the rest of the food, with me avoiding eye contact with anyone. I was afraid I'd jump someone right now, my mind not registering friend from foe.

Clarisse and I rainchecked our meeting. I was dead on my feet, and she had new siblings that need situating.

"Put me down," I protested. "Put me fucking down…"

Luke had the audacity to shush me while _carrying _me. Who the fuck does he think he is? And to my utter embarrassment, I fucking purred and snuggled when he ran his fingers through my hair. I _purred_ and _snuggled…_

I… I just curled up in my swaying hammock, nuzzling my fluffy pillow and cozy, blue comforter. I didn't even bother taking off my weapons' holster, being more used to sleeping with weapons was like sleeping with stuffed animals for other kids.

"Good night, kitten," Luke's murmur was the last thing I heard before succumbing to a, hopefully, dreamless sleep.

**Reviews literally make my day. So a big thank you to those who review. **

**-3anona**


	10. We Came Here To Run It

**Disclaimer: This title is brought to you from P!nk's Just Like Fire.**

CHAPTER 10: We Came Here To Run It

I was being manipulated. _I was being manipulated._ I. Was. Being. Manipulated. _I. Was. Being. Fucking. Manipulated._ I hope I got that clear. And that I absolutely and wholly _hate_ it.

The two weeks I stayed at this camp? It was so _fucked _up. Everyone was behaving like sheep with 'free will' in a large, fenced grassland; it was _disgusting _and _pathetic _to watch. And I _don't_ do restraints and expectations.

But I'll play along for as long as necessary. I'll make them think I am the perfect little sheep- with an attitude, of course- or, for the other party, the powerful ally to tip scales, which both believe they can control. _Hah!_ Both parties were doing lousy jobs of keeping things under the tables. Both were playing one _hell of a game_ that almost everyone is suckered into it.

Oh, and I have to _deeply _thank whoever-it-is for my so-called 'demigod dreams.' Probably my asshole-aunties. 'Assholes' because they only wanted to show me major and significant but highly confusing, blurry, and low-key sounding-like-bullshit dreams. But with sheer willpower, I got _at least_ a bigger piece of the puzzle. And honestly it doesn't really take much to put pieces together. Simple math really; one plus one equals two.

_Everyone_ was being manipulated. Everyone's thinking is clouded. Gods and demigods alike. It was sad, really, maybe with a little hilarity on the side.

So let me get a list ready. Number one: demigods.

They tend to follow expected stereotypes, which, in my humble opinion, is bullshit wrapped in ass. Demeter kids are expected to be the plant loving pacifists. They are seen as weak, insignificant and are more than often not taken seriously. Sweet and complacent.

The Ares kids are expected to be big, bad and burly meatheaded bullies who are constantly looking for a fight. Tough and dumb.

Athena kids are called nerds, the kids who think they are more intelligent and have no problem shoving it in your face. They also have a thing for battle strategy. Prideful and belligerent.

Apollo's kids are only invested in healing and the arts. Oh, and archery too. Creative and trival.

The Hephaestus kids, well honestly, they are holed up in their cabin-forge acting like workaholics. Subconsciously, hiding like ugly ducklings scared to face the outside world unless absolutely necessary. Hard-working and under appreciated.

And the supposedly air-headed children of Aphrodite. They think acting like bimbos and manwhores and fashion-obssesed dumb fucks is part of their mother's legacy. Shallow and petty- _oops,_ pretty.

And the Hermes' Cabin dwellers. They either act all shady and depressed- Unclaimed and minor gods' children- or they indulge in thievery and pranking. Wild and underrated.

And last but not least, Dionysus' Cabin. Let's just say… Dio isn't being a very nice dad and role model at the moment. Useless, grumpy and drunk isn't something I'd like to be remembered by. Slothful and insignificant.

And second on my list: the gods.

I think they all go with the whole '_familiarity breeds contempt'_ and Machiavelli's '_It is better to be feared than loved.'_ They distance themselves from their children, unknowingly brewing hate and contempt. While, simultaneously depicting themselves as those _great, unwavering constants_. The whole don't-fuck-with-me vibe is very obvious. They also treat their children, us, like sheep. They give us what makes us believe is the utmost form of benevolence from their side. The puppets and the puppeteer.

But all that happened why? Paranoia. Yes, they are all-powerful and immortal, but so were the titans. And the protogenoi, the primordials. See where I'm going to and coming from?

And all the gods, from what I heard and briefly seen, act like one layered onion stereotypes. _Sad. _

Final being on my list: my old, old man, grandpa dearest. The Crooked One. Or as a personal favorite, the Crazy Evil Farmer. But he is a shitload of stuff to think through _Mig-_ my companion migraine- right now.

But you see… if I wanted this place to be decent enough for me to stay, adding a bit of my own _arrangements_ seemed like a good start. But subtlety, however, isn't always overrated.

I sat on top of Cabin Three, my father's cabin, observing… and sighing. Everything was a routine. Everything had a schedule. Bathrooms, showers, activites, classes, food times. I am not against order, but this is overkill.

I don't do routine and expectations. I hate them. I tried for my first couple days, but it didn't work out. So, I just kept popping from place to place.

My first visit to Cabin Nine almost turned me to Perci-chow and me no likey Peri-chow. But I got what I wanted in the end.

"What the Hades?"

"How the fuck did you get in here?"

"Alright, who messed with the security system?"

"What the fuck are you doing on top of the forge?!"

"Is she fucking crazy?!"

"Get down, Percillia," the cabin's counselor finally took charge of the chaos.

"Of course, Becky," I answered with a cheeky smile. The African-American seemed a bit disgruntled with his new nickname. _Meh._

"What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely curious, that the harsh question didn't seem harsh at all.

"I came to request a couple things," I looked around the steampunk-themed workshop/forge. "Do you have somewhere we could discuss stuff? I don't think here is the best of places."

He studied me for awhile but nodded. He called for two of his siblings to follow.

We reached a very nice looking lounge. I looked around, "Nice place you got there."

"We made it ourselves," the tanned girl said.

"Every part of it," her other brother added.

"Well you did one hell of a job," I complemented with an appreciative smirk. "I know for a fact that if any of my usual clients saw this… they'd want their own. And these people have no problems in their financial departments."

All three swelled with pride and gave me hesitant smiles, unlike the permanent scowls they all shared.

_Make them feel important… _

The place was modern and easy on the eyes, but highly impressive. There was a _very… _pleasurable-looking bar, but scarcely stocked. No alcohol rules _suck_. I smirked.

I was sprawled in a soft grey loveseat, they sat in the plump, grey armchairs.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order," I drawled and raised an eyebrow. Business mode.

"Charles Beckendorf, senior counselor of Cabin Nine," grunted the burly African American.

"Nyssa Barrera, daughter of Hephaestus."

"Jake Mason, son of Hephaestus."

"Percillia Jackson," I offered them a _charming _smile.

"You said you had matters you wanted to discuss," Becky looked at me expectantly.

"True. I heard that you often make… stuff for those who ask?"

They nodded slowly and disappointedly for some reason.

"True," the girl grumbled bitterly. "Usually free of charge too."

Ah, that's where the disappointment came from. They feel cheated.

"If you wanted us to make you something we could have easily discussed this in the workshop," grunted Beck.

"I wanted to do business with you." I crossed my legs. "Meaning, I will be paying you for your work. I'm not one to ignore someone's effort."

They relaxed slightly.

"You'd be the first," hummed Jake.

"And what is it do want us to make?" Beckendorf questioned, a bit more intrigued now.

"Oh, I have a lot of things in mind," I waved my hand dismissively. "But let's start small, eh?" I need to know their limits and how much I could trust them.

"Sounds reasonable enough," he answered while Jake produced a notepad.

"How do automatons sounds?" I asked with a smirk.

"Damn, girl," Nyssa whistled.

"If that is what she calls simple, I'm afraid what she finds complex," Jake said bewildered. Charles grunted in agreement.

"What? Are automatons to much for you guys?" I asked innocently with wide eyes.

"Hell, no. Finally, something fun to do around here," Nyssa smirked at me. I decided I liked her.

"Good to hear, Nyss."

"What and how many do you want?" I liked Becky's straightforward nature.

"Combatant automatons." Jake began taking notes. "It would be nice if each automaton would be different. Humanoid but incorporated with different fighting styles and techniques, various weapons, and, if possible, could re-assemble themselves. I want them element-resistant… to an extent. I want it unique to each one of you. I like random," I smiled indulgently. "I need it for training purposes. I don't think normal camp training will be enough for me. And I suppose you saw my… _initiation_ spar with Clarisse La Rue?" They nodded. "And, for your information, we were both holding back a bit. I need to be constantly training. My life was dangerous before, now I have to watch my back from two fronts," I muttered the last part lowly.

They seemed to not notice though. The smiths seemed in heaven. They smiled at me.

"How many do you want?" Jake asked excitedly.

"That really is up to you and the rest of your siblings," I hummed.

"Any last requests?" Nyssa's smile was almost mad.

"I want you to go crazy with them," I returned a Cheshire smile. "No restraints."

"You do know that will takes us a while. We don't usually get commissioned with a project like yours," Charles raised an eyebrow, though he seemed eager as well, though he was subtler than his siblings.

"Of course," I waved his concern away. "I also know you are _way_ faster and better than any mortal I could have employed. And, well, you _are_ family."

_Make them feel wanted… _

They smiled and I honestly felt happier. Family _is _everything after all.

"Now let's talk money." Those poor blokes weren't comfortable to ask for it. Let me see what they have in mind, before I open my mouth with a price. "I want the materials, time and effort included."

"We don't really know how transactions work outside of camp borders. The whole 'strawberry business' is governed by Cabin Twelve, Cabin Four and the Big House. Also,I have a feeling you know a lot about the finances concerning our project. I wouldn't want to suggest a price too high or too low," Beckendorf smirked.

"Fair enough," I shrugged and leaned back on the comfy loveseat, not bothered at all. "Prices for robots usually range from 50,000 to 2,000,000 dollars. It depends on complexity and the quality. Also, sentiment. Which I do _not_ want."

Jake coughed and Nyssa had to slap his back. All of them looked bewildered and open-mouthed. It was my turn to smirk.

"Come on, did you really think I'd cheat you? Have more faith in me dickheads," I drawled with a pout. "How about…five hundred grand per automaton? I'll pay you when everything is done, and I have my package secured. I'll even pay tips in Drachmas…."

Needless to say I left Cabin Nine in a very celebratory mood. I also asked Nyssa to teach me how to make bullets for my firearms. She agreed but refused to take any money.

Until today the Hephaestus cabin was working on my automatons. I also receive random little contraptions from time to time.

I'd made my own bullets. They were an alloy of celestial bronze- I still prefer calling them glowy metal- and mortal metal. Lou Ellen, a friendly daughter of Hecate, had charmed my guns to never run out of ammo as a thank you for her Claiming. She insisted and who am I to kick a gift horse in the mouth? Or any horse for that matter?

Also, Grover appeared the next day with all my stuff and my mother's. I hugged the shit out of him and kicked the crap out too. The idiot also got me the battered and bloody and _stinking_ Minotaur's head and it's two severed horns.

The sight of the head frightened everyone in the Cabin, some even hurled. I was enjoying myself immensely.

Some Ares kid- Mark- took the head, he said he'll put it in a formaldehyde solution to preserve it. The thing already had maggots crawling around. I had special plans for the head. _Very special. Mwahahahaha!_

Grover thought I'd be mad at him and hate him. I hate how insecure he could get. Fucker. I shoved some sense into his little goat brain. He left, looking brighter, to meet a 'friend.' I scoffed at him, could've fooled me. The idiot basically had heart eyes when he talked about Juniper, a redheaded dryad. _Just kiss already, dammit!_

There is so much fucking repressed potential in this place it's depressing. But, that is why I am here.

What's the point of being a child of a godsdamned god if you couldn't get benefits out of it, except for a permanent target on your back, an invitation for monsters? And a lifetime of Mommy and Daddy issues?

Like the Aphrodite kids for example. Those can be as vicious as piranhas when they want or need to be. My hair still seems to remember how many hairstyles were tried on it. All that happened because I asked for clothes…. But can you really blame me? I had to walk around camp in one of Dio's fluffy towels till I reached Cabin Ten.

Which also reminded me of my first shower here, and my twice-a-day ones too…_Hehe._

"What in our Uncle's name are you doing here, Nixie?" His voice was drowsy and suffering.

"Good morning to you, too, Dio," I threw him a kiss over my shoulder.

"Why," he sounded so tired I almost felt bad… _Nah_! "Are you in my drawers? And Naked? Shoo!"

"Oi," I protested. "I have a towel on FYI. And it is not my fault that _your_ daddy chose to blow up my car and therefore all my clothes."

"But _why _are you in my closet?" He almost whined. I also noticed he took the form of the college boy. _Awww, he cares about my migraine. I'll leave him glass of wine with a straw…_

I looked back and smirked, "I was hoping you'd be into crossdressing."

I left the poor god spluttering, as red as his wine and absolutely speechless. _Ah… the memories._ But after seeing the lavender shampoo in his collection, I couldn't stop myself, even for considering the possibility of incineration.

I think my impulse control went on a permanent vacation to Honolulu. _Fuck you, I don't need impulse control…_ which explains why I tend to either sit on Luke and the Stolls' laps or on top of table itself during meals, including _other_ Cabins' tables… _Eh._

Back to the Aphrodite kids, they were wicked with razors, nale files and whips.

"Do you never do anything but gossip and look pretty?" I was genuinely curious.

"Are you saying we're weak and petty?" Drew Tanaka snapped. That bitch was one hell of a character. As sharp and deadly as the razor held threateningly in her hand.

I raised an eyebrow. "I never said that," I said in a sweet voice and smile. "You did."

"What are you getting at, Perci?" Silena raised an eyebrow, miffed if not a little intrigued. Who the hell said all pretty faces were dumb?

"It's just a thought," I shrugged innocently and sat on top of one of the many dressers, looking at the now curious and a bit furious faces. (_Hehe, I am the rhyming mistress. What? No! Ew. Begone Apollo, dude of poetry…)_

"You got two seconds to elaborate," little Lacy raised a nail file threateningly. I desperately tried not to coo at her adorableness.

"I mean, your mother certainly doesn't do _nothing_. She _is _an Olympian for a reason, a powerful Olympian at that. Like… who shot the love arrows, or arrows in general, before Eros or the Archer Twins were born? And the whip? BDSM sounds quite interesting, but I'm _pretty _sure a whip is a viable, hell deadly _and _sexy weapon to master. Fuck, I got my whip from a godsdamn Fury a couple days ago…. Ooh, nice sheath." I turned to them with my infamous kitten eyes, "Can I have it? Kýma really needs one…"

The sheath was so pretty I was sure I was making grabby hands and heart eyes at it. The thing showed a sea serpent- that looked exactly like Kýma's serpent- with the background of bronze and gold shattered by black. The entire sheath was encrusted with sapphires, emerald and rubies. It was breathtaking.

You know what? _Screw it._ Kýma was now in sheath worthy of her beauty. I strapped it to my thigh. And ignored their bewildered and shocked reactions.

_Make them feel vain… _

The faces though angry were interested. After all, no one likes to feel weak. I looked over my shoulder as I reached the door. I narrowed my eyes and glared at them, "Never, _never _let stereotypes define you. Your children of gods for a reason. And I'm sure under all that makeup is not what anyone might expect." I then smirked, "And that what makes it all the more interesting."

They had something to think over now. And, well, the look on the Ares campers' faces, hell all the campers, was priceless when the children of Aphrodite started to regularly visit the arena. Love and War are close for a reason. Though screwing is not what I'm hinting at, but that is a viable answer… sometimes.

I managed to convince the Hermes kids to invest a bit more in their father's other domains. Gods know he has a lot of those.

"So your telling me you want us to start a trade business." Travis was a little slow today.

"And you want _us_ to be in control of it." So was Connor apparently.

I sighed, agitated. If I spend another ten minutes with the sons of Hermes, I might strangle them. "It really isn't that hard to believe. Your father is also the god of trade, not just thievery and trickery. Gods know how little cash one can earn in a financially devastated camp."

"I'm not against the idea of a demigod business," Chris Rodriguez, a newly Claimed son of Hermes, said. "But, as you said, we are financially devastated. How do plan on going through with it?" He raised a challenging eyebrow.

I smirked, finally some progress. "I'll give you a loan, a head start. But I'll be owning 25% of the business."

"Don't you think 25% is a bit much?" Luke questioned, finally involving himself. Now we're _finally _talking business.

"Not at all, Lukey," I said with a cheeky smile. "After all, you are starting with my own, hard-earned money. I could claim the entire _establishment _if I wanted."

They seemed to accept it well enough. We then spent the rest of the day, Cabin Eleven and I, planning. What would they sell, where to get it from, communication methods… the likes.

_Make them feel useful… _

We ended up agreeing to use 'portal-like-tablets'- as a little son of Hermes so nicely put it. Meaning that just like the _Hermes Overnight Express_ works by putting the money in a pouch with what you want sent, _poof!_ and shit's done, but instead of a pouch we'll be using a two-way tablet. It will advertise and display the merchandise and goods we're selling. A demigod purchases an object, places money on the screen, and- once again, _poof!_\- you got your purchase on your screen, delivered and ready for you. Children of Hecate truly live up to their mama's name.

Demigods can also sell as well as buy, but there is an interest of ten percent of the earnings, for now, for selling and fifteen percent for buying, like taxes. Truly profitable, and not a waste of money, _if_ executed properly.

We decided to go exotic but still ironic with the name. _Al-Tajir_. It means the merchant in Arabic. I love that confusing as shit language. You are most likely to find a lost sock than two Arab countries speaking the same Arabic…. It's so damn cool! A bit like the different accents of English, but all the more different and confusing. _Hehe._

Anywho, seems like Cabin Nine has a whole other project on its way. And I don't hear them complaining. I mean, personal trinkets and weapon making sound okay, but who the hell wants to do nothing but weapon maintenance every-fucking-day?

Everyone seemed happy for now. Who the hell wouldn't like to make money?

Things were going well. And- did you know that children of Demeter had a bit of control over weather condition? They certainly didn't.

It was nice seeing the ecstatic look on Katie Gardner's face when she managed to lower the temperature a little beside her siblings in their personal greenhouse (though they all passed out a minute later….) Of course I invited myself in and hung upside down from the blue Oak tree. _Blue tree! What's next? Weed?!_

But seriously did none of them learn anything from Persephone's Abduction? (Or was it the Rape of Persephone? Eh.) Demeter, though mostly a pacifist, could turn into a cold-hearted ass bitch when she wanted too and freeze the earth, and bring draughts and starve people to death without a thought. The entire 'Jack-and-the-beanstalk-mojo' was getting old. Hell they passed out from overexertion! Where is the stamina people?! But practice makes perfect.

Everybody needs an addition to their bag of tricks every now and then.

Clarisse was doing well with the new arrangements. Everybody got what they need during training. Her cabin, although gives you the impression of fucked-up, crappy, and stinking-like-shit, was actually very neat in a militaristic way. Beds are made, belongings in trunks in front of their owners bed, and _oh my gods!_ the drool-worthy weapons from every-time and place lined up on the red walls with one wall solely left for spoils, and the rock music blaring loudly.

The Ares campers were pretty cool once you get along with the scowls and fight-me-punk! vibes. I got a neat katana when I won an arm wrestling match with Mark, after he gave me the floating head of the Minotaur in a tank. "That is the best fucking thing I've seen all week." One of them commented. Bloody fuckers.

We got along pretty good. Like a house on fire. Literally. Chiron was not pleased. We just cackled like hyenas. _What?_ The weapons shed looks- _looked _pathetic. It didn't take long for us to rebuild it awesomer. Ares kids are wicked in fort building. And it's not the pillow or cardboard type.

Annabeth was also not pleased. But she forgave me after literally dragging me kicking and screaming to her cabin with the help of her brother, Malcolm Pace. Those sons of a bitch.

"Why?! Why are you doing this to me, Annie?!" I wailed in desperation.

But those, those…._ugh!_, forced me to read a college level book on Shakespeare. I was scarred. Math? Okay. Science? Sure. Shakespeare? Fuck-the-hell-off. And Dyslexia is still a bitch, by the way.

"So you'll willingly stay if we let you read books on science, mythology and from the archives and let you stay _upside down, hanging from the rafters?_ Did I get that right?" Annie was astounded at my level of absurd, irrational rationality. But honestly, I would do anything to get my hands on those ancient scrolls and documents in the archives under the cabin. No one but Chiron and them know about it. And now me. I had to use it to hide from the excruciating sonnets. Seriously those assheads are as wicked as the Wicked Witch of the West.

"Pretty much, yeah," I shrugged. She looked a bit constipated. _Ah, well._

She pretty much got over it after I began random debates spontaneously in random different languages, including the dead ones, while I was in the cabin. They stopped shushing me like divorced librarian widowers when they actually found me spouting random information when I talk or ask questions that give them a pause.

Like: "Did you know people can suffer from a psychological disorder called Boanthropy that makes them believe that they are a _cow?_ They try to live their life as a cow….Apollo would be proud." I mean the dude has those dumb, slow and red cattle of his….

And "The medical name for a butt crack is _intergluteal cleft… _Huh."

"A duel between three people is called a _truel...When the fuck did this happen?"_

And a personal favorite, "Why the hell does a snail have 14,000 teeth! And _why_ can some kill you?"

The Athena bunch weren't that bad. They were like a pretty owl. Silent(mostly), observing, smart, and absolutely, hecking vicious near their unfortunate prey.

Also now that I usually sleep more often, I somehow- a miracle really- managed to convince Annabeth to come with Clarisse and I's nighttime drink-outs. She was way too uptight to be healthy for her. It became frequent, those drink-outs.

Dumb shits were everywhere, and Dio's wine was, well, heavenly. I also came to trust them, and I have a feeling they did too. But Annie and Clarisse didn't need to know that. And since they figured out who my godly sperm donor was after my 'Epic Spar Weapon Royale' adding to the fact I was too tired to do anything about it or denying it…. They really are my first _real _friends in Camp Half-Blood. Even if both can be bitches and know-it-all's.

'Cause, I really don't know if I can trust people who cry their heart outs and then sneak out in the middle of the night to talk to villainous voices in their head a trustworthy friend. Even if I kick myself everyday that I began looking at them as an older brother. (Emotions cloud judgements.) But they show too much _genuine _concern and care… it's very hard to remember that they're traitors and appear in my dreams talking to Crooked Ones and Twisted Fucks.

But we all need to keep up our pretenses, don't we?

Although, you got to admit. Having a missionary, assassin for a mother and being one yourself is pretty damn awesome. And, oh the perks.

Also, my cousin is a tree? What the hell?

"Are you telling me that _you_ are the landmark on top of this hill?" I said slowly.

"Yup," Thalia Grace, a daughter of Zeus, my cousin, and apparent pinecone tree, nodded.

"A pinecone tree?"

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, I heard about your dad fucking up," I began. "But this is a whole new level of Zeus-fucked-up." The punk-girl nodded sagely, which looked ridiculous in the strait-jackets we all seem to be wearing in this infernal all-white room.

"I think my baby brother is short-circuiting," Thalia smirked at the stunned Jason. That seemed to snap him out of it.

"You do know we are almost the same age now, right?" He glared and scowled at us.

And Thalia, Bianca and I all cooed at him. "He's so adorable."

"Hard luck bro," Nico grunted unapologetically at the scowling Jason. Little Hazel just giggled.

Yes, yes she is older than me mentally and- _for now!-_ physically I shall still entitle her as Little Hazel. "So what is your tragic story, Little Hazel?" She didn't even bother correcting me. I think they all got accustomed- _slightly- _to Thals, Bia and I purposely messing up their age.

"I died," she said bluntly.

"Huh." Was many of our intelligent responses and, "Oh." made an appearance as well.

"_And_ I am condemned to wander the Fields of Asphodel with my memories intact for eternity," she continued.

"That sucks," Nico commented, breaking the awkward silence that followed Little Hazel's declaration.

"At least Aunties gave you a break to talk to us every now and then," I told her, grimacing.

"Aunties?" The daughter of Hades with amnesia out of this dreamscape said. Her brother also seemed that way too.

"It's what I call the Fates," I shrugged. "Which reminds me. I need to have one hell of a talk with them sometime."

"Honestly," Thalia scoffed. "I'm not surprised by your blasé attitude any more."

"Well, seems like our time is over, _kids_," Jason said with false-enthusiasm and a mock-glare when the scene began dissolving.

"Bye, bye, my fucked-up cousins!" Was my enthusiastic farewell.

Honestly all I keep getting from my dreams is that Zeus is major dick. Striking down his brothers' lovers, turning his daughter into a tree, basically selling his youngest son to his vindictive-ass wife to literally throw him to the wolves. That dick needs to _not_ get some for some time.

So, Nico and Bianca di Angelo are children of Hades while Thalia Grace is a daughter of Zeus. And Little Hazel is- was or is…? is- a daughter of Pluto, which makes her the Roman half-sister of the di Angelo's. Also Jacey is a son of Jupiter, Thalia's baby full-blooded baby brother. Which means Zeus shagged the same woman while having an identity crisis….

And of course we all ignore the Roman Schizophrenia of our godly sperm and egg donors. We, Greek and Roman fuckwads-_oops_, are not supposed to mingle, apparently we all stay single…. (_Hehe. I am hilarious._)

And have I mentioned my father-slash-godly-sperm-donor-until-he-does-fucking-something-about-it's flummox letter? It sound completely like the word 'flummox' confusing and indecipherable, yet not so confusing if the weird word is to go by since it means confusing and came from the Athena cabin's daily vocabulary. And honestly? I always wondered where I got my extreme irrational, spontaneous logic from. I found my answer.

_I kóri mou,_ (translation: my daughter. If you are an Illiterate fuck and need it.)

_Brace Yourself…._

_PS. I might claim you today after you do some epic shit during Capture the Flag, tonight. Just felt that you needed to know. Ciao!_

_PPS. Fuck some shit up. Make daddy proud, princess!_

_PPPS. Also, get ready for your __first_ _parent-embarrassing moment. I know for a fact Sally is too cool for that. And I've been the creepy stalker, though you already know that…. _

_PPPPS. Seriously, brace yourself. You've got some fucked up uncles. Chiron doesn't count._

So yeah…. I have nothing to say about that.

On that weird-ass note, I gotta get fitted for armour, though I told Chiron and my I-enjoyed-this-way-too-much idiot immortal cousin I just don't _do_ armour, it will slow me the fuck down, I'd gladly wear my favorite, blessed, indestructible green hoodie-sweater (_thanks sperm donor dad!_) and that it is armour enough. But _nooooooo_, "It's tradition, Perci," and, "Don't be like that, child," and "Just wear the damn thing, Nixie. Shoo!" and, "Scared I'd beat you, Prissy?" and, "Why are you like that, Seaweed Brain?" and finally, "Just pass by Cabin Nine, kitten."

Also, FYI Annabeth is only smart enough to only call me Seaweed Brain when the anti-misogyny and sexism Triumvirate is alone and getting drunk. The camp began calling the 'by far the top three deadliest females in camp'- also known as Annabeth Chase, Clarisse La Rue and Perci Jackson- the Triumvirate. I like the name….Oh wait no I don't. Keeping up pretenses and all. But you gotta admit it makes your ego _purr_ in a sense of accomplishment.

And I'm off track again. _Dammit! _

I gave into peer pressure, and promise of more underage drinking. _Whoohoo!_

Don't do that kids, you might find yourselves drunk and in the middle of a meeting in the Pentagon with a flamethrower. And that is how I, Deliria Rheason (_What? It rhymes with Percillia Rhea Jackson… a bit. You don't judge me! I was drunk and school was a bore._), ended up wanted by the CIA. I barely got out. Actually, I was caught and interrogated.

I was seriously glad mom ignored me this time and insisted on giving me a tracking device and a two-way earpiece. That woman fabricated the new persona of Deliria Rheason in a matter of one hour while I was in a cat and mouse chase in one of the world's most secure facilities. She also put all the crimes from my other aliases and actual me on that persona. Seriously, I love that name. They pronounced Rheason like 'reason.' Though I pronounce it something like ray-ya-son. Delirium and reason! Irony at its finest

Also, it was a good thing that I dyed my hair platinum white with bluish white streaks…. Well, not dyed technically, it was more like I frosted my black hair on a panicked whim (when I found a couple dozen laser beams from the security system pointing at me and blinding my poor pupil-dilated eyes) and light hitting it made it look like blue highlights…? And I frosted my _irises_? And it didn't hurt, but actually kept the laser from melting my eyes. _Camouflage: 100._

Mom didn't seemed shocked at all, but proud and smug. I love that woman to death.

And I got side-tracked again, dammit! Anywho, me just jumped off the Cabin's roof and made her way to Cabin Nine. Me was ready to 'fuck some shit up' tonight.

Annabeth hates it when I talk that way. _Hehe._

**Hey, guys... SO, I would like to ask if any one is interested in giving me ideas on the automatons Perci would need for her training. Pretty please. Help. This is the fourth draft for this chapter, and honeslty people? Please review. They give me a sense of accomplishment and hope that someone actually reads this... and inspiration too, honest! Enough of me. **

**3anona, out! **


	11. You Really Think You're In Control?

**Disclaimer: The title is from Gnarls Barkley's Crazy.**

CHAPTER 11: You Really Think You're In Control? Well, I Think You're Crazy

"For today's Capture the Flag…settle down, campers… We have the Blue Team led by Cabin Six-Athena and has allied with Cabins Seven-Apollo and Eleven-Hermes. The Red Team is led by Cabin Five-Ares and is allied with Cabins Four-Demeter, Nine-Hephaestus, Ten-Aphrodite and Twelve-Dionysus. The Ares Cabin currently holds the laurels.

"The creek is the boundary line. The forest is fair game. Magic items are allowed. Killing and maiming, however, are _not_. Good luck. And may the best team win!"

That was a while ago. Now, on border patrol by the creek, a very irate demigoddess had her headphones on, a lousy attempt to quell the boredom and rising anger welling inside her. She had discarded the useless armour as soon as she reached her post. It will do nothing but hinder her. Her blessed hoodie was all she needed for protection. Her aura-sensing abilities saw her father's imprint on the clothing article, which explains its almost-invulnerability.

And that ladies and gentlemen is how narrating the exposition is done! Dropping the mic…

But seriously, I really _am_ reaching my limits. Also, Annabeth standing ten feet away, _invisible_ no less, wasn't helping matters much.

Her Yankee's invisibility cap was doing a swell job, really. The only reason I knew she was there were: instincts and her familiar aura. Her familiar grey and bronze aura was as familiar as Clarisse's scarlet and bronze one. (And the Stolls' cobalt blue with different color explosions- each one of them had a special color palette, though, I didn't really need it to know which is which. It's a surprise they haven't cornered me yet….) I don't need to even have my aura-sensors _ON _to know they're near.

But why am I angry at her? Simple, really….

The bitch set me up as bait! Yes, it _is_ a smart idea. I am the distraction her allies need to get the flag. If the deadliest of the bunch went after me, Castellan has a chance to get the flag with the most challenging forces out of the way. So, I actually _do_ get a bit of action, and- how my esteemed sperm donor so _eloquently_ put it- fuck shit up.

Even though I have a pretty good relationship with the Ares and Aphrodite Cabins…. I don't think they appreciate me _borrowing_ a couple of their…stuff. And hiding them in an only-reachable-to-_moi_ underwater alcove. _But they don't need to know that…. They probably think I burned it at the stake! No seriously they think I spilt some of Alabaster C. Torrington's more destructive potions… _

Al's a real sweetheart, especially with his little siblings- he's the oldest child of Hecate, though he's only about fourteen/fifteen. He's also the most trained in witchcraft and Mist manipulation.

(Though, according to Annabeth, most demigods could learn to manipulate the Mist. "It's just a matter of determination and concentration. All demigods do that, anyway, on a subconscious level, innately. How do you think we hide our weapons from mortals when we go monster hunting? Some just think it is a normal and natural occurrence: 'Mortals aren't meant and don't need to see it, anyway'. The only difference is that the children of Hecate, and often the Big Three's children too, have a greater degree in controlling it. Though for children of Hecate, they grow up knowing how. The children of the Big Three, however, need to learn it, even if learning it comes a bit easier to them than most. It's like normal mist, it's in the air, and it's like the white version of shadows…".

She also began an _interesting _history lesson.

"The Mist is the condensed magical essence of our world taking an abstract form, our ability to bend reality. It also helps hiding us from mortal eyes after the fallout that happened in the Dark and Middle Ages.

Even though during the Renaissance Greek and Roman Classics and 'Mythology' made a fierce come back, hence the gods being the cradle of Western Civilization. But the comeback wasn't enough after the terrible and bloody events of the fallout. There are records saying it was probably worse than the Trojan War and the Witch Hunts.

Christian extremists went rabid over all polytheistic faiths, mythologies. The Celtic Mythology's mortal documentaries aren't clear if the 'great kings and queens of myth' are deities or not. The Celts are barely holding their grip to this world, instead of fading- even gods are terrified of passing beyond the Veil to the unknown. Their only anchor is the Pagans and Wiccans.

The Ancient Egyptians, though still thriving, had their temples vandalized and were raided thoroughly during the _many_ conquests that Egypt has seen.

The Norse don't even have actual records of their own. The only records of them is through the countries that the Vikings had taken or been. That does not, however, mean they didn't leave their stuff behind when they retreated a bit after the Middle ages. They left quite a bit, though, for mortals to make their own speculations. _Movies never get anything right._

And most eastern faiths were hardly ever meddled with, too far away.

The Native Americans were probably the luckiest of the North and Southern American civilizations and faiths. Gods know how bad the Mesoamericans took it, what with the Spanish Inquisition and all. But because they were the bloodiest pantheon of the bunch they not only survived the massacres of their followers, but fed off of them too. The Africans are still their in the nomadic tribes scattered here and there."

Apparently the Greek and Roman pantheon isn't the only one. I'm honestly not surprised though. I knew this world was a world where the monsters under the bed weren't figments of imagination. It's just that accepting a world of monsters is different from accepting a world of _gods_ and monsters. That there are assholes out their responsible for the monsters and fucking up lives is a bit different and harder to wrap my head around...

It _is_ an interesting topic. I know this demigoddess right here will be spending a bit more time in the Archives. I got off topic, _again…._)

Where was I… where was I…? Ah!

Al, the son of Hecate. He decided to take me under his _cloak_, or something like that. He was _intrigued _by my potential in water scrying and my talent in potion brewing. "If you stay still for a bit longer and learn patience, you might be an exceptional potioneer- a good disguise for many chemists and pharmacists and scientists in general in the mortal world. Scrying, too, needs patience. And your not half bad with the Mist, kitten. And are you even listening to me? Get the fuck down from the rafters!" _Yes, Ally, I heard you_. That was an interesting conversation, I was tied to a chair by his mojo to learn '_the fine art of cleaning a damn cauldron'._ Fine art my ass, Ala_bastard._

Back to the game.

_So,_ they- the Ares and Aphrodite kids- banded up against me, if the looks I got from them during the march to the forest was any clue. So not only do I have to look out Clarisse's spear Lamer- ah, _pardon,_ Maimer- and the rest of her siblings' deadly weapons, but also Silena with her new-found affinity for the glowy bronze, jagged dual whips (She trains with two, but one is more practical for until she absolutely masters wielding both.) and Drew's skill and accuracy with her glowy bronze war fans. They were both terrifying.

And I am in no way downgrading the other Cabins' newfound affinities and prowess. _Castellan is up for one hella ride afterall…._

Anywho, back to the boring present and ignoring the ominous growl that echoed in the silence- though it was occasionally broken with a yell or two and weapons clashing every few minutes-, I was thoroughly enjoying the music coming from my wireless headphones.

Glowy metal phones? _Perfecto_. Especially discovering my phone was the only one that doesn't send '_yo, I'm a delicious midnight meal! You could have me with ketchup if you catch up!'_ flares in a fifty mile radius was the highlight of yesterday.

Then again, seeing a bunch of ancient-weapons-or-just-weapons-in-general-wielding demigods screaming like they caught their parents doing the Devil's Tango when I took it out is a _very_ close second.

Aaaand, right on time. My waited for diversion arrived with whips _cracking_, fans _slicing_, spears _crackling_, and swords _clashing _with breastplates. And the eventual howl...

…._Not very subtle._

I took out Ana- my sword, Anaklusmos/Riptide. That cute thing chose me as her wielder! The first in a couple centuries, she said. Ana can get very _talkative_ if you open up your mind…- and exclaimed, "Finally! I thought you'd never come!"

"I hope we didn't disappoint," Silena said flippantly, her whips curled around her arms like pretty pieces of jewelry.

"Nope," I answered in a too sweet voice with a Cheshire grin. "I just hope we all have fun."

"Oh, we will," Clarisse answered with her own bloodthirsty smile. Mark and Sherman grunted in agreement behind her, their grins matching their sister's.

Drew was just sneering in glee and fanning her _surprisingly_ void-of-make-up face- the violet lipstick and eyeliner count as shit compared to her norm. "Can we quit talking and get this over with?" She asked with a pout. "Isn't it enough she took my favorite pair of brown suede boots?"

"I thought your favorite pair of boots was the _black_ one?" I was honestly curious.

"That was two days ago," She waved her hand dismissively, ignoring her sister's sigh and the war bitches' and my concerned-for-her-mental-health expressions.

"Anyway," I physically and mentally shook my head. And I put a sweet smile on. "But don't you think five-to-one odds are a bit… unfair?" I was dripping false innocence like no tomorrow.

They collectively snorted. "I'd be more worried about us, really."

"I know."

And, have I mentioned the glowy bronze whip and Silena's skill with it? It's a damn good thing she only chose to use one this time.

Well, it is pretty damn hard avoiding the barbed and jagged lashes while parrying two swords-one jagged, the other double-edged and both working together wickedly-, an electric spear- that bitch either wants to impale me with the serrated, glowy, bronze head running with red electricity(a new upgrade) or crushing my bones with the other business end slamming blindly when the head was deflected-, or perhaps the dual war fans- Drew's thin frame was helping lots in slashing and quickly getting out of the way for someone else to land a hit.

It was _fun_! And adrenaline? My gal's always there.

Jumping to avoid the whip from turning my calves to ground meat, I raised Ana to block Sherman's great sword, pushing him back just in time to block Mark's jagged one and limboed under Lamer and Drew's deadly fans and raised Kýma to block another jab.

It went on a bit like that, me being mostly on defense, but I would eventually get in some pretty serious hits here and there.

My cheek was bleeding from a lucky hit from a fan and my shoulders (cold-shoulder hoodie) were scrapped from all the rolling on broken debris from a hit missing and catching a boulder from the creek. My legs were as okay as the rest of me.

The mothertruckers now noticed that the hoodie was impenetrable and went for uncovered skin. And- well- my gladiator sandals, even though they reached my knees, were as good as zilch, some cords were already teared.

_But!_ That in no way shape or form means that they were unscathed. Kýma and Ana were doing their jobs. And… I play dirty. So dust, rocks and grass weed flying here and there from time-to-time was a _hella_ good distraction, even fatal in real life situations. Tripping them also wasn't out of the question. And slashing the leather straps of the armour and rendering them armourless? Not a problem. And… waddling demigods was a very amusing scene, including them trying to pull their pants back up still holding their swords, but waving them wildly in front of them.

And there was a-not-so-insignificant amount of blood and gashes on our persons. And you gotta give it to them for still going on. But…

Experience trumps brilliance. And I've been doing this shit for about half my life, give or take.

And they were tiring. Heavy breathing, sloppier blows, and staggering. The daughters of Aphrodite, although highly skilled, were virtually new to this type of exertion. (Probably the only exertion, besides Black Friday. Though judging by attitude, they seem to be living comfortable lives, so not even Black Friday. SMH….)

The children of Ares, however, had a bit more endurance and stamina due to these activities being an everyday routine, freetime activity and a homework of sorts.

_Take the belles out then the brutes. Hehe._

I was able to disorient Drew with introducing her forehead to the back of Ana's hilt. (Kýma's other business end- the glowy-silver tail of the sea serpent- is for trepanation- drilling holes in heads….) Her fan's turned into thin daggers that appeared in her bun when they fell from her hands. _Huh, interesting._ She was on her ass, holding her head and moaning, before she was out when Sherman tripped over her, pulling his pants up and being off-balance 'cause of his armour hanging off one shoulder.

Silena almost got a lucky hit, but the whip curled around Ana, and I pulled. A bit harder than necessary. The daughter of Aphrodite came crashing as I repeated the same intro of Ana and the back of her head. She fell face-first into the dirt.

I jumped above her unconscious form and away from Mark's swing. Ana tangled with the jagged edge of Mark's sword. I twirled and and the back o' my _athame_'s hilt(you know? the end with an eye-gouging, trepanating end?) met Mark's shoulder, the one holding the sword. He crumpled after I yanked it out, _hard_, dislocating the shoulder. Another intro with Ana to his head had him dazed. And with a concussion, too. Maybe

Sherman however was very angry. And that boy ain't no pansy with them great-swords. (..._Okay, weird._) Long story short, I tripped him while avoiding Rissa's Lamer, he slipped in the mud, I kicked the sword out of mud-clad(_hehe_) hands, and Ana did the rest.

So, as much as Rissa is a bitch, she is ten times better(_and bitchier_) with a spear. I parried a jab and Kýma stabbed, but Clarisse bent out of the way. Ana was in a headlock with Lamer.

"Having fun I hope?" I ground out as I jumped over a swing from Lamer.

"Most I've had in awhile, Prissy," she grunted with a smirk, as she thrust Lamer against Kýma while avoiding Ana taking her head off.

"Good," I replied, kicking her in the chest. "'Cause this is probably the most I've had since burning a warehouse down on a couple of _mafiosos_, Rissa dearest."

She growled. _Call me Prissy, I'll call you Rissa, fuck you very much._

_Back and forth. Hit, parry, stab, jump, swerve, duck, kick, dodge, lunge, jab, thrust, parry, kick, and repeat. Oh, and don't forget: get scraped, scratched, and a little bit maimed._

Through all my entrepreneuring in this place, and training others (Clarisse asked ever so nicely one drunk night to help with the little munchkins. Or as she called them 'retarded impish dwarves'.), I never actually found time for my own training. The night-time, stealth races with Cabin Eleven in the forest don't really count as training. Or running with trees- uh, dryads.

Though sword lessons with Luke, the best swordsman in three hundred years, were a new experience.

As I said before, I'm pretty skilled with a sword. It's almost an innate trait. But before Ana, all the swords were either too light or too heavy, nothing even moderate enough to train with without getting frustrated of tripping and throwing the fucker away. Goldilocks would've been disappointed.

Mom prefers knives. Daggers, hunting knives, or throwing ones. She wielded them all with finesse. Guns are too loud for her liking.

I got the colt from two brothers who helped with one absurd, vengeful spirit. _I'm sorry I violently poked you with Kýma while you were masturbating! Next time don't be a damn human trafficker._ Sam and Dean Winchester were very amused and disturbed. But they were both hella good shots.

I'll probably value that disaring maneuver for the rest of my life. "Your opponents won't always be weaker or slower than you, kitten. With this you can end a spar fairly quickly and on your terms. Or atleast distract your opponent. At the same time it can cost you your life if you fucked it up with the wrong opponent or at the wrong time. Though, you're probably skilled enough for it, kitten." Let me just say how _annoying_ his derogatory, cocky smirk was, or how _satisfying_ it was when I disarmed him after a one time demo.

I won't mention our spars' tally. It _is_ my first time training with a legit swordmaster.

Yet for my normal workout and training, I haven't gone on sometimes-daily-and-without-a-doubt-stupid-as-hell missions- either paid for, or just-for-fun, pissing off important, powerful people, or even the occasional hunt, monster or otherwise. Forcing me in everyday-sometimes-life-threatening-situations. And I don't want to start to slack off, even if my instinct are good, _very good_, my muscle memory probably even works when I am unconscious, and my innate skill with everything under the classification of 'Weapon'. That, though, does _not_ mean I don't get a little training in.

The Hephaestus Cabin better finish up my automatons faster. The last time we met they decided that half a million bucks per robot is too much since each one of them will be making more than one or even two. _Never expect anything less than wild from a Hephaestus descendant when you specifically ask them to go wild, cause they will._ Ooh, and for now we decided on fifty grand per machine.

How do you explain to your family and friends that you have too many to count bank accounts _and_ safes _and_ property, including safe houses, scattered across Gaea under your name and aliases? You don't. At least not this soon. And it won't hurt them not to know.

Cabin Eleven was now working on papers for a loan for _Al-Tajir_. They want everything official. The Stolls, out of all the Cabin occupants probably, know how important having papers for a business is. I had no doubt that someday _Al-Tajir_ would be a thriving trade under them.

Back on course…

Rissa knew how to use her strength to her advantage. And although I _am_ stronger than an average demigod- you need the extra muscles for guns and swords- Clarisse has the upper hand in that forte.

My forte was speed and agility against her. That's why I was rolling between her spread legs out of her reach. 'Cause although she won't have a violent reaction as a male would've, getting hit between the legs hurt nonetheless.

"Stay. Fucking. Still. Prissy!" she growled, as she was parrying Kýma and Ana as I rolled out of the way before she could kick me in the chest.

"Hah!" I bit out. "Not a chance, Linda." I jumped a bit higher than normal and landed on a boulder.

"Who the fuck is Linda?" She was confused and caught off-guard for a moment. And that was all I needed.

I jumped off the boulder, Ana before me, striking Lamer out of Rissa's hand. I landed with a solid kick on her chest and used the momentum to flip backwards out of her reach. I watched as she was flung backwards. She tripped over Sherman and her head made friends with a rock.

Rissa was out…. I grinned stupidly. No one was maimed in the process, and I doubt a couple scratches and concussions would take away my desert privileges.

_Clap. Clap. Clap._

I instinctively jumped backwards and crouched with a hiss, baring my teeth. I growled and blinked. I immediately narrowed my eyes at the six milky apparitions.

Unknown to me at the time, the game had ended. Luke caught the flag. And everyone left the forest and went to watch the the spar at the creek. They saw when Clarisse got

knocked out and the exact moment when a chill rushed through everyone. At least, that is what Michael said happened when he patched me up after the game.

Anywho, now…now things were going south pretty damn fast.

All my unconscious victims- Drew, Mark, Silena, Sherman and Clarisse- stood up as one, like one second they were down, the next they were sitting then standing. Vampire style. Not cool. So not cool. Nu-uh.

And their milky eyes weren't all that appealing as well. And oh, don't get me started on their high- _way too high_\- pitched voices.

"Hiya, Perci!" They all screeched gleefully and in unison. But what made it even creepier than _Edward Cullen _himself was that they came out of my friends' mouths. With a very disturbing ear to ear grin, showing way too many teeth than probably healthy, considering the blood dripping from the too far stretch. "We missed you!" They giggled, or screeched however you see it.

You get the level of Creepy McCreepington Creeps going on?

"Oh, come _on_," I whined. Yeah, I _whined._ "Didn't I already kill you before? Like twice already?" It was _not_ a fun hunt. At all. Just the relaxing feeling of them being gone was what I got out of it. It didn't help that the second time…they chose me as their suit…. I shuddered, violently.

My not-friends looked at each other, "Ooh, she remembers us too! You remembered us!" The stretched their unnatural grins a bit more.

"Shut the fuck up, Karen!" Those bitches were getting on my nerves, and the memories were fucking up my control. Or maybe it was the golden haze making a chilling ward around me that was sucking the life out of me?

"You're being mean again, Perci," they tsked, turning their heads from side to side together. "Master, doesn't like mean girlies." They growled. All…six…of…them.

_Shit_. I forgot Annie was inside the perimeter of grandpa dearest's wards. And knowing 'Karen' and her posse, them truckers ain't goin' down without no fight. _Ah, hell. Not Annie too…._

_Fuck eidolons!_

As soon as that thought left me, a bone shattering pain erupted from my ribs, because, well, a bone crushing punch is apparently bone shattering. _Thank you so much, invisible not-Annie_.

And just like that, a less-than-a-second pause fucked everything up.

Another godsdamn pain erupted from my thigh this time. A jagged coil harshly uncoiled..._ouch._

A jagged sword got caught in my sandals and both were unraveled with the hacking at my now chopped up calves.

The the double-edged sword and fans had a great time shredding my short denims while I was thrown up in the air, the recoil of the _two_ whips shredding through both femurs after the first blow ground my skin and muscles to chow.

And the cherry on top? Not-Clarisse thrusting damn Lamer and actually penetrating my hoodie and scraping my sternum. And that is not counting the more-fucking-deadly-red-electricity running through my bones.

_And a good thing that armour was off…. Scorched skin is so not in this season._

Oh, and I was thrown into a cluster of broken boulders….

_Fuck._ I was too slow to act. I couldn't go for the killing. The damn eidolons would just find other bodies. And I am _not_ killing my friends. Possessed or not. They didn't particularly have any qualms about that. And they were _way too damn fast_ for me to have time for anything to be done. _Ouch, a big fat Ouch._

The chocolate syrup to the sundae that is this situation? Annie's dagger in my gut.

And a loud and awful wail was heard, that I later realised came from me.

_Uh, sorry to disappoint, but you are not the one a hair-width away from a leg AMPUTATION! _Also, my shoulders got dislocated when I hit rock bottom. _Hehe, owwww._

I _think _there was a lot of banging and shouting and screeching giggles and for the _life_ of me(don't know how much _that _will last) I couldn't make anything out but a _very_ disturbing static-screech sort of sound.

_Ah…. Grandpa dearest! Hello to you to. I know I'm all pro family, but….. Can't say I blame father and my aunts and uncles for not visiting you in that _very _special retirement home of yours…. Fuck you, asshole._

I hope I'm wrong and that it's all pre-death hallucinations, but I swear I heard the disturbing static sound again. But then again, if it actually _was_ him, I sure as hell am glad that I have some pretty solid mental defenses. 'Cause if _that_ is how he sounds when he can't get in…. I might be a bit scared if he made it through.

But no worries! The last time something tried they kinda went _poof!,_ so I'm optimistic.

Back to more pressing matters….

_Fuck off Thanatos! Not again and not today._ I glard, quite vehemently, might I add. The god of death looked very bored and shrugged, ruffling his pretty black wings. Literally. He has giant black wings with dark accents of blue, red and purple. He is almost as dark as his wings, and _devilishly_ handsome. And he has a thing against shirts, apparently. Must be the wings. But you gotta admit those are some _fiiiine_ black slacks.

"It won't be the first time," he replied in a velvety, smooth, quiet voice to my glare. "We really should stop meeting like this you know." He said matter of factly.

_And…I am conversing with Death, and checking him out (won't be the first time really). And- _I _tried_ raising an eyebrow and smirking. Again, keyword: tried_. I knew you talked!_

"I never had a reason to." I looked at him incredulously, albeit as much as I could. "I can't read your mind, Percillia," he soothed. I gave him a questioning look. "I've been around you long enough" -and ain't that sad- "to know what your saying, without you saying anything.. And, no. You aren't predictable, don't worry….I just know you that good. What?….No!... What the...just," he sighed tiredly. I smirked. And sang a little merry song that went like this- _I maaade De-eath looose his com-po-suuure! La la la la la laaa! I'm awesome._ He looked a bit miffed. "You're about good to go. I hate to say I'll see you soon, but," he shrugged, helplessly this time. "_Adieu._"

Well…. Good news: I ain't dying today, bitches! Bad news: this fucking hurts like _HELL!_

So while my _lovely, enlightening and pragmatic_ conversation with the one and only _charismatic _ Death, I was healing.

So I did land in a pile of broken shards, but it was a pile of broken shards _in_ the creek. _Yeah, baby!_ I was patched up enough that I was able to breath with every breath literally killing me. You know? 'Cause Lamer was scraping my sternum and Annabeth's dagger in my gut. I had enough power to raise my hand and-

"_FUCKING HELL!_" I yelled- no, no, scratch that. I screeched out loud, as I yanked Rissa and Annie's babies out of me. "That. Fucking. _Hurt!_"

Remember that ruckus from before, hmm? Well, it ain't there no more. "What?!" I snapped at the gapping faces of everyone.

Sorry, but meeting Thano again isn't really something I do everyday. Weekly, monthly but _not_ daily. Warning: face Death enough times and you might develop spontaneous bouts of bitchinnes, irritability, and snappiness. You have been warned.

I stood up shakily and pulled water up under my hoodie. _Oh, thank fuck, that feels good._

Now where was I before almost dying? _Hmm…. Ah, yes. Eidolons…._

"Can't get rid of me that easily," I cooed at my eidolon-possesed-friends, as I pulled on my totally awesome, black, spiked huggie-hoop earrings( a bit punk? Yeah, but it's a bit hard wearing leather gloves all day on a hot Summer's day swim…). "Now I hope you remember just who the fuck I am," I growled at the end. Dramatic? Hell, yeah. Effective? Hell to the yeah, if the piss-stench was anything to go by.

And it was my turn now for a finale, eh.

As soon as the last word was out my mouth, my black, flaming-blue whip lashed out to my side and I pulled. My flamin leather gloves flaring up around and heating a bronze brand- a pentagram in a circle of fire, an anti-possession charm brand. I sizzling smell and sound came with an inhuman screech and Annie's own scream as the scorching brand came down on her invisible upper shoulder. A milky white apparition was visible without my _spidey-senses,_ hence the gasps.

Before the bastard could escape, I shoved a the black- stygian iron, apparently- dagger through its heart cavity. According to Chiron, stygian iron sucks the life force of monsters so they can't reform, at least the minor ones. I don't know about you, but I don't want to deal with Karen and her posse ever again.

"Bye-bye," I said sweetly, as the idiot gave on last screech. I floated Annie on a glob of water a bit away from the upcoming fray, while trying to ease the pain from the now-tattoo on her shoulder. It hurts, I should know (_waterproof foundation is very beneficial_). Oh, and the secret's out, my esteemed sperm donor also had plans for Claiming me tonight. No harm done!

"Who's ne~ext?" I sang. I grinned when they all started trying to leave my friends but couldn't. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. That won't work. Your dear _Master_ has some pretty good binding wards up," I said matter-of-factly.

They whimpered. "Poor, poor, bastards. Mama's going to take care of you…for _good_ this time. Don't you worry 'bout a thing!" I giggled madly as I watched them banging on the wards, futilely.

I put a mad bloodthirsty grin on and thrust my hand out. They froze and and turned around together. I pulled my hand in then stopped. Blood-bending. Not cool? Well, fuck you.

Another thrust and water from the creek rushed and held them in place, ice chains around their necks and hands and torsos, their feet stuck in big blocks of ice.

"P-please! Don't do this!" They screeched rather pathetically if you ask me.

"Now why the hell would I do that?" Deadpan voices are very effective, and uninterested scowls too. I readjusted my grip on the whip and the black dagger held backwards in the same hand and the scorching brand in the other.

I whipped my hand out suddenly and pulled it back swiftly, shattering the ice with a thought, with not-Drew screeching. I jumped and landed on her back, the brand setting on her shoulder. Two voices screeched and a milky-shit came out of Drew's mouth. It screeched on last time from the dagger in its 'heart'.

Drew was dealt the same treatment as Annabeth.

"Hmm. Fifteen seconds. New record," I grinned at not-Mark. And ignored their struggling and muffled screams. Monsters' tendency for loud noises is astounding. Water-gags are a gods-send.

The flaming whip was wrapped around his torso. This time, I pulled myself towards him. As I ran beside Mark I branded his shoulder and Sherman beside him with my momentum. I quickly stabbed two eidolons in the 'heart' and sent the boys next to the un-possess-ified girlies.

Not-Silly's turn. I was seriously getting angry with the wailing and thrashing. _Don't dish what you can't take._

She broke the ice on her hands, and waved the two glowy whips randomly around. _You just_ had _to bring both, Silly, didn't you?_

I growled, jumping above the whipping…whips and throwing my own and binding her arms beside her. I piggy-backed her-_stop fucking moving!_-, and, somehow, managed to brand her shoulder, and killing the wraith.

Silena was floated to the other group where I could peripherally see a bunch of Apollo kids pacing on the other side of the invisible barrier.

"You're oddly silent, Karen," I tilted my head at the still form of Clarisse.

"Don't call me that," she growled.

"Why?" I tilted my head to the side.

"It's not my name!" She screeched.

"And, what," I began, as I cracked my whip and relished in her apprehension. "Makes you think I give a flying fuck?"

"_Ahhhh!_" Karen screeched, breaking all the chains _Hulk_-style.

"Come on, I just did those, Karen!"

She just growled-screeched, fell on her back?, and broke the ice around her feet, slamming it down on a rock where Clarisse hit her head in the first place.

"Seriously," I threw my hands up. Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry as fuck, but playing poker has its perks. Including all the money.

_Giving the enemy the visage of overconfidence, bordering on stupidity and arrogance… is very reverse psycology. Works like a charm._

Karen/Clarisse put her hand out, and Lamer came rushing to his mistress' hand.

"Since when can she do that!" I exclaimed as her smug moment faded as a water tendril swiftly snatched it out of Karen's hands.

I cocooned her in water. "You never do know when to stop, do you hun?"

I stalked slowly towards her, more than happy to see the terror i her eyes. "You've been a mean girlie. And Perci doesn't like mean girlies," I threw her words back at her.

Seconds later Clarisse was beside the rest of them. I had learned a while ago how to reverse the healing effects of water to heal others.

I looked at Al. "How far are you with getting this down?"

"Almost," he bit out, without looking up from the green glowy runes he was drawing. A little further away and spread around the barrier, Lou Ellen and the other Hecate kids were doing the same.

I nodded. After all, a Titan's handiwork, no matter where or how the hell he is, is still strong. Rushing Alabaster would only force an unpleasant backlash….

I focused on healing the scrapes and scratches off the idiots who almost got me and themselves killed tonight. The other stuff I'll leave to the Apollo kids. _If I didn't have the brand…. _Dreams are very enlightening.

Remember the '_ominous growl_' from earlier tonight?

I spun and growled back at the damned hellhound, which was staring at me with coal read eyes the size of a damn truck.

_Fucking hell, can this girl get no rest?! Fuck you, aunties!_

The damned-rottweiler seemed to get a lock on his target. _Moi. _

_Hurghhh! I literally came out her to have some fun, and honestly? I am feeling so attacked right now._

It's not even one of Uncles Hades' batch. No, this one came right out of great-uncle Tartarus. _Lovely._

We were circling the other. _Torrero_ style. Or whatever.

When my friends were no longer behind me, I rushed the hound before it had time to even notice it. Ana quickly sprang out and seconds later…. Well, the rottweiler's giant head was impaled on my precious sword, as the body, still in shock, toppled to the side as many breaths were released.

The hound's body turned to sulfur, which I washed away. I threw the head into the water behind me. And shot the emerging hound before he had to fully materialize, with my modified colt. _Make this quick, sperm donor._ The head disappeared.

The scared faces of everyone turned even paler when a green glow spread across the clearing, dimming even the runes weakening the wards bit by bit.

I didn't have to look up. My father's trident was glowing proudly above my head. The water-not under my control this time- wrapped around me in an oddly comforting hug. I looked good as new when the water receded.

A teenie-tiny smile made its way to my terrifying stoik face. _Damn water and its effect on me._

Everyone was kneeling, I realised with a raised eyebrow. _The fuck did this happen?_

"It is Determined" Chiron hollered over the crashing waves of the creek. Dad has no boundaries defying the laws of physics. "Poseidon. God of the Seas. The Earthshaker. The Stormbringer. Father of Horses. All hail, Percillia Jackson, daughter of the Sea God!"

"Hail!" Weapons were banged to breastplates.

The glow began to calm down. The sigh of relief got stuck in my throat.

_No, no_

_Oh, no, see you walking 'round like it's a funeral_

_Not so serious, girl, why those feet cold? _

_We just getting started, don't you tiptoe _

_Tiptoe, ah~_

'_Oh, you've_ got _to be kidding me.'_

'_Nope! I did promise you something embarrassing.'_

'_Get out of my head!'_

'_I'm not in your head, princess. We're actually conversing.'_

'_What the fuck I'm speaking fish?!'_

'_Well, not right this second you are. But you can.'_

'_Fuck you.'_

'_Your Mom already did that.'_

I couldn't stop the incredulous snort that escaped, which then had me giggling then laughing as loud as a hyena.

_Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy_

_Ah ya ya ya ya _

_I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean~_

Giant -and I mean giant, fifteen feet giant- water speakers erupted from the creek. A giant three tier water-shaped cake was floating between the blasting speakers. There were- _are those dolphins?! Yeah_\- dolphins jumping in arches over the fucking cake. And adorable and small water sprites wiggling around it and doing the wave. There was also blue and green fireworks….

I don't know whether to cry or laugh. I did both. Yes, I managed,

'_Listen, princess. Focus and don't interrupt me,' _ his serious voice got my attention fairly quickly. He had my attention, though I continued to dance with the sprites around me. '_Good. Since basically the entirety of Olympus was watching the game' -_my eyes and smile twiched- '_and you fucking shit up. Good job, by the way. Any way. I trust know you know what's happening with your uncles and grandfather, which means you also know how that marks a big-ass target on your back, especially now that I Claimed you. Zeus might take it as me declaring war, or worse, me admitting that I stole his stupid bolt. And Hades already has Sally. You are now in more danger.'_ -I raised an eyebrow while singing aloud with the rest of the demigods who were thankful for something refreshing since the impromptu exorcism.- '_Yes, more. Suspicion is not certainty. Please, don't do something I would do….Though, by the package that just popped up...you already did. You are not helping yourself here! Just…just expect a quest soon. And _please_, I am begging you, stay safe….'_

By the time he finished, the song was coming to an end.

_I keep on hoping, we'll eat cake by the ocean, Uh~_

Oh and for my epic finale? As the song ended, I threw Kýma straight ahead into the quivering wards.

They shattered like glass, as the water show behind me exploded into more fireworks. A green trident rising out of blue wave, f which horses came out off, surrounding the the giant glowing trident.

_Wow….that man's affinity for dramatic entrances and exits is truly astounding._

**Hello, and welcome to version 2.0... Fanfiction can be a *beep* some times...**

**Ant who, sorry for the wait, I had an AP exam, those are exhausting! And who knew you needed a picture ID? Everyone except me, apparently...**

**So, the story... About that 'impromptu history lesson that literally came out of nowhere...', I hope I got most of my ****_real_**** facts correct.**

**For Perci's bipolar mood changes, that was intentional. I'm basing it off Poseidon's rep in the mythos- cunning, vengeful, ruthless and pretty hecking powerful and not afraid to show it- and how he was portrayed in the books as laid-back and sarcastic. And above all, he is the sea; one second it's calm and sunny the next you are in the middle of a hurricane. Hopefully, I did a good job at it.**

**And a big thank you for you reviews and suggestions. I know I'll be using them. You can still give some if you want. Reviews are always welcome, except flames. I fight fire with a flamethrower, thank you very much.**

**What else... Ah. The anti-possession charm. Since I know as much about as the name suggests I made a couple thing up(or not, I'm still in season 2 of Supernatural. So...) It has to be burned into the skin to be effective not just a tattoo, hence the branding.**

**If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. I'll try to see if the story doesn't answer it I will in an A/N.**

**Ooh, ooh, Happy Ramadan to all you Muslims out there! (a bit late, sorry!)**

**Phew, that was one long A/N...**

**3anona out!**


	12. I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land Of En-

**Disclaimer: The title of this chapter is from Erutan's Come Little Children. And for later on, the song's Hozier's Take Me To Church.**

CHAPTER 12: I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land Of Enchantment

Okay, so let's be clear on one thing.

Demigod dreams, as much as they suck, they are hella enlightening and often amusing. Rarely amusing. Okay, once in every many dreams maybe amusing. Often painful. Very often.

Still though, I don't just _get_ why I'm here right now…

So after that _hella_ exciting night, yours truly couldn't sleep. Yeah, insomnia sucks. And so does four hours of sleep two days ago.

But on the bright side, I get to work on, uh-um, _interesting_ stuff. Yeah, that.

I do believe I mentioned going on not-normal hunts before? Yeah? No? Well, now you know.

I picked up _quite_ the intriguing collection for my armory. Weapons aren't the only advantage I got. My arsenal is quite… _fascinating_.

So, _moi_ decided to fool around a bit. With my arsenal….

_I came in like a wreeecking baaalll~_

Since my stuff was mostly in Cabin Three- at least the stuff no one really needed to know I have-, untying the the hammock, where most of my stuff was already, and having to carry a sack a few Cabins down wasn't all that hard.

Also adding to the fact _moi_ has the place all to herself…. _Mwahahahaha!_

I'm going to go _loco_. Remember that silver briefcase from Montauk?

Well, anyway, the thing contains some of my most peculiar? Dangerous? Deadly? Life-threatening?… Let's just say some of my most intriguing trophies that are lethal in certain conditions and wrong hands.

Now, I'm not saying my hands are 'right hands'. But at least I have a fallback if things get fucked that includes the least amount of casualties possible.

Yeah, black magic and blood magic can do that if you're not careful. Who knew malevolent spirits gravitate towards spots where dark magic is concentrated? Lots of lovely hunts were lovely.

One of those concentration spots happened to be the Catacombs of Paris. A dark, underground place, millions of dead bodies, used for 'religious' burials, used by two enemy forces in World War Two, too many undiscovered tunnels; if you ask me, it seems like a perfect place to find deadly spirits, 'guarding' the magic well.

How did I find it you might ask? Well, _moi_ was trying to find somewhere to hide and heal. There are plenty of underwater pools in the many tunnels of the Catacomb.

Oh, and an underwater pool purified and instilled with the essence that fiercely reminded me of...my father? It seemed like a wonderful place to hide from my _marvelous_ pursuers. After all, how many ten year olds can survive underground for a week, that is if they are even _alive _to survive the week?

According to a documented journal of one of my half-siblings in the Athena Cabin's archives, during the second World War, specifically D-day, a squad of Poseidon's children and legacies- British soldiers- were pursuing a division of Nazis- Uncle Hades'- out of an underground bunker in the Catacombs.

"_Father was a possessive and territorial god. He would not leave us for naught. He would not let the children of his brother- our cousins, regrettably- 'one up us' if he had a say in it. Lady Athena would be delighted, and Father would never let himself be humiliated for such nuisance by the arrogant goddess. And let us not forget Loyalty. Our fatal flaw. Our Hamartia. The sea never abandons it own. Father would save us. We were positive of it…. At least, that is what we kept reciting and praying for in this infernal cave! Surrounded in this piece of Earth, saturated by Dark Magick no less! Our German cousins are on the brink of defeat. Oh the euphoria in that statement! - Major Calder, 6th June 1944"_

Since them being underground, the Nazis had the upper hand. Though they were probably just bitter for what happened that day.

The fuckers- my siblings- were most definitely _not_ thinking, or were a bit too excited, when they thought chasing Uncle's kids in their home turf was a good idea. The idiots got caved in. And Poseidon being an overprotective daddy, pulled an Athens, and _boom!_ You got a groundwater reservoir saturated by the Greek God of the Sea's own essence. The soldiers had everything necessary to escape, what with dad's power bank at the tip of their fingers.

But due to the amount of power that thing radiated, it attracted the attention of too many unwanted visitors, it was supposedly closed off. For good this time.

Or not.

After a good four days charging- if I remember correctly, it was where I had one of those silent staredowns with Death- I was good to explore and gather trophies, or souvenirs.

Ooh, ooh. It was also where I made my first ritual…. It was a trial, really, to see if I could bind Kýma to myself. It worked. A bit too much. More than a bit.

The serpent coiled around Kýma's hilt may have came to life, and she may have sworn to be my protector. (_Where the fuck were you tonight? Huh? You know how much trouble Karen gave us last time? Does torture not count as a need for a protector?_) And it may have had something to do with my blood used as a sacrifice(magic comes with a price). And it, _also_, may have had to do something with the ancient volume I found, which may have been written in…_bare with me_… Atlantean Runic Script….

Apparently that was what bothered the Major too much, he could understand the dark magic in the place. And the sea and its own are, oh, so tempting...

I apparently awakened Marlowe's- the sea dragon/serpent- spirit with singing(_don't ask_) and infusing my blood and essence (my aura, I discovered recently. I did it unconsciously with the incantation from the book. The chanting was for the aura/essence moving.) to the blade she was imprisoned in.

Now Marlowe prefers to sit as a black tribal tattoo on my shoulder, coiled around the flaming pentagram on my upper shoulder- my Anti-possession charm. She stopped a bit down my arm, towards my elbow. There were ocean waves, shark teeth and spear heads, filling the gaps and making it look _rad_. Usually though, those are reserved for male warriors- strength, protection, guidance, continuity, calm, courage. But who the fuck said I care, whether it be male or female, I _am_ a warrior.

My first tattoo everyone. Mom wasn't happy. Hmmph. But I got cuddles for the next month and skipped school, so I was fine. I guess. _And _I got to see Mom go all protective-mama-bear, slaughtering The Order members for hurting me….

I was munching on blue cookies as Mom put the fear of everything holy and mighty into them, right before taking away their lives… _Oi, judgy people, they deserved it. I know for a fact I am not their first victim._

She also chaperoned my ritual after giving me Kýma. She 'just happened to find it' in the the little underground alcove.

I searched the place thoroughly, after I got a hold on my sanity and life line and put them back in place. Kýma just appeared. Mom told me to do the ritual. A melancholic look on her face, that I was pretty sure had nothing to do with the massacre a couple tunnels away. My esteemed sperm donor had somehow made an appearance….

The _athame_ was my tenth birthday gift. After the ritual, Mom gave Marlowe a downright terrifying talk- complete with a bloody dagger. "_...I expect you take the utmost care in your duty as the protector of my baby girl"-_ jee, _thanks_ Mom- "_when I am not there, dragoness. Your Lord sent you here for a reason, and neither he nor I will allow you to disappoint us. My daughter's safety and wellbeing are the first and foremost of your concerns…._" Aaaand that was only part of the threat. I'm not ashamed to admit that I felt a bit scared for Marlowe. Mom could be pretty hecking terrifying when she fucking wants to. Which is why she makes an excellent hit women. And I hope like hell that she's giving Uncle fucking Hell- capital H- right about now. She's a big girl and has already dealt with the not normal.

The poor thing- a fifteen foot (and according to Marlowe-_how about Maré for a nickname?_-that is not her actual size) a sea dragon with enormous and beautiful golden horns, scales of dark blues and golden what-looks-like-a-giant-ass-spike-fins all the way down her back, precious stones encrusted along the large spine-fin, extending to her retractable blue and bronze leather wings and front and back limbs that had sharp black-diamond talons, and surprisingly gentle snowy blue eyes (_yes, she looks _way _different than the serpent on Kýma…_). She's fucking terrifying and awe worthy, I loved her- barely got out, "**_Lady Sally, the young princess' welfare is the sole reason of my existence. Her majesty is my little fledgling, now more than ever. Her blood bonding ritual affected myself just as greatly as it did the blade My Lord has kept me in. I was not kept in the Sea Princess' Blade for no reason. She is not only my Mistress, but a daughter to me. And it is of my own consent that I chose the honor of protecting the young Princess of the Sea, my Ladies._**".

Marlowe then inclined her head and shot to my shoulder, claiming it, I suppose. Mom softened her glare when she heard Maré's sincerity. But since then Maré has been in absentia.

Anywho…I don't know if I should be happy that a bloody, vicious, psychotic cult brutalized me, a "_courageous, pure, young, little virgin…perfect for a sacrifice. Are you not, _devotchka_?_", or not? For the overwhelming cuddles, ice cream, cookies and skipping school?

Eeeeh….Nope.

I wouldn't want to play the offering. Never, ever, _ever _again. It was as painful as my little stunt during Capture the Flag. Maybe more, since I had to crawl through tunnels (the Order of Vremya- the cult's name, I think- also thought the Paris Catacombs were a _lovely _place for a sacrifice ritual and all, they even included the white dress!) while trying to outrun a bunch of blood crazed adults screaming _bloody murder!,_ trying not to lose my halfway attached limbs all the way….

It is probably where and when I discovered Blood Bending. What with the unbelievable amount of lacerations covering almost every inch of my skin. I did not want to die at the hands of a murderous cult. Nope. That is not how I am going to die.

It was terrible. The Order was terrible. Being chained beside dead, decaying bodies was terrible. Staying there for a _long_ time to "_be as compliant as possible_" was terrible. Barely surviving on the humidity I kept pulling out of the 'air' and taking the oxygen I need from it was terrible. Being starved close the death was terrible. Being left to rot in the dark was terrible. Feeling vulnerable and useless and helpless was _terrible_.

Also… also knowing that Mom was at home, thinking I was enjoying a field trip and not getting myself abducted and shipped as cargo across the Atlantic, and tortured by deluded fanatics and sycophants, and then her feeling guilty she left her _baby_ _girl_ alone and blaming herself because I was incompetent enough to let myself get kidnapped was terrible.

And I physically shudder _every_ time I remember...

I shook my head and wiped the fucking tear that slipped. I took a deep breath and pulled out Anaklusmos. I wanted her bound to me like Kýma is. And maybe gain another companion. One that might actually _act_ as a companion.

"What do ya think?" I asked her, softly. "Does being bound to me sound like a bad idea, Ana?"

Her aura flared. _No, it sounds like a wonderful idea. At least now I know you won't be abandoning me on purpose._ She was a bit sensitive about that, abandonment. And she had her fair share of abandonment issues.

And please don't ask how I knew she was saying that. Her 'voice' appears in my head. Or I chose to 'hear' what she is 'saying'.

No one, and I mean it, will be allowed into my head. I could form mental connections with them, or when I chose to project or broadcast my thoughts. They can send me thoughts(like dad tonight with psychic Atlantean..._hehe_) and I can send mine, back and forth; a conversation.

I've been building mental shields since before even the Paris-incident (_a story for another time_), and pouring my essence into them. Strengthening them. Now more than ever, since I can see it. And I do _not_ want nosy gods snooping around.

_My mind, my body, my thoughts, my feelings, my actions…_

I began singing a song that was on repeat for bit on my mind. The song, apparently, doesn't matter. My voice does.

The tome said, "..._the chanting of sirens… for tempting thine weapon… for its complacency._"

Does that mean I'm a siren? Since I'm pretty sure I was the only one in the reservoir- besides Mom, who was silent. At the time, I had no problem accepting my being a mythological-fae being. _At least it explained why I am the way I am. _It explained my affinity for anything _aqua_. I wasn't going to kick away answers- fully true or not- for long time answerless questions….

Oh and for theatrics, I put on a plain, long kimono cardigan. It was dark blue with gold seams and and a golden outline of a suspiciously familiar sea dragoness. A simple golden chain tying it around my waist. _Yes, yes different mythology._ But… who the fuck cares?

Anyway-

"_My lover's got humor_

_She's the giggle at a funeral_

_Knows everybody's disapproval~"_

I barely paid attention to my voice taking on a more…velvety and tempting (_and_ _angelic?_) quality, echoing in between the stone arches and wooden beams and rafters of the Cabin's basement- _now is definitely not the time to ask how this place _poofed! _to existence_\- and I layed Ana on the seashell-and-coral-embedded altar I found. It seems like it was newly made, that the whitcraft-y basement just appeared. Yet still old.

The prickle on my neck didn't help much either.

"..._I was born sick, but I love it_

_Command me to be well_

_Amen, Amen Amen~"_

I placed the ancient book on a stand beside the altar, my voice getting more and more stronger and power-filled. Louder, and the echoing was getting eerie. My long, loose hair and silky kimono stirring in a not-there breeze.

"..._Take me to church_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life~"_

I took my _athame_, Kýma, and cut the fleshy part of my thumb. "..._Blood to bind thee to thine own weapon, to be loyal and never fail thee…_" Blood began to drip out. (_I hope the Cabin is sound proof…_)

"_...To keep the Goddess on my side_

_She demands a sacrifice_

_To drain the whole sea_

_Get something shiny_

_Something meaty for the main course_

_That's a fine looking high horse~"_

I began consciously pushing my essence to mix with the blood pooling in my hand. "... _an incantation… to join thine essence to thine weapon… to give thine weapon a psyche…to appreciate thee… protect thee…_" I could feel Marlowe on my shoulder(_someone's excited, she hasn't exactly been around for a while_) and Kýma in my belt quivering in anticipation.

"_...No masters or kings when the ritual begins_

_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_

_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_

_Only then I am human~"_

Ana also seemed to be quivering, whether it was anticipation or not…. I don't know. But I began dripping the blood all across her blade and hilt. My voice now making it look like a tiny earthquake was coming.

"..._Take me to church_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life~"_

Done. My voice echoed, followed by an eerie silence. And Ana began absorbing the blood, like a sponge. I put a blue bandage on the cut. It was silent for a while, my breathing the only sound.

"...That was awfully dramatic," I whispered, my voice sounded very echo-y _à présent._

And- _clank!_\- Ana was now standing on her own. _Okay, creepy…_

Okay, well, now the bronze and blue apparition of a young woman rising from Ana took the cake.

"_Ooh,"_ the thing shuddered. Her blue 'skin' had goosebumps, and navy blue 'hair' fluttered in thick waves down her back in a non-existent breeze. Riptide's circlet form- celestial bronze encrusted with precious stones and _Anaklusmos _inscribed on the inside in ancient Greek- was on her head. She batted her bronze eyes and straightened her one-shouldered, bronze Grecian toga. Finally, she…clapped her hands. "_It is lovely to finally meet you in person, Percillia, dear._"

"I hope I made a good first impression," I answered the pnévma- spirit- with an inquisitive, raised eyebrow. _Just go with the flow._

"_Ooh, I _love _pummeling wannabes,"_ Ana smirked evilly. "_She learned her lesson._" Suddenly, her expression soured _dramatically_. "_Unlike that nóthos, that bastard!_" she hissed furiously. Her hair whipped around faster, and her doe eyes narrowed and flashed. _Lovely._

"Okay, calm the fuck down," I waved my hands around, rather comically, ignoring and not asking about the mysteriously-fucked _nóthos_. But well, I did not know what a pnévma of a weapon might do. Maré has been asleep for two years on my shoulder, under some sort of makeup covering her. "_I'm_ supposed to be the one with the bipolar tendencies, sweetheart."

"_...Can't we both be bipolar?_" She pouted. A _weapon_ pouting! Welcome to my fucking life!

I blinked. _Do I give people whiplashes like that? _"...I don't see why _not_," I grinned cheekily at her.

Marlowe was now seriously looking for attention. Which was weird. She didn't normally do that…

"What?" I snapped at the uncoiling dragon, slithering down my arm. _It looked cool, a moving tattoo…_

_Suppose, it's time to mention the basement is a high, _high _ceilinged, two floor library_.

It was full of books, written in every language you could imagine and not, some bestiaries, others concerning a variety of magicks, rituals, runes, potions, etc. and personal journals and archival documents older than myself and possibly even my own father. And he's fucking immortal.

A bunch of cauldrons made of various materials and an entire section filled with so many ingredients took a large portion of the place… Honestly? The place is too big to describe. And too changeable. Too fickle. The Library part being the only stable part.

_Oh, look a gym, a pool, a fucking bipolar room!_

Anyway, the sheer size of the place allowed Maré to stretch her, currently, fifteen foot frame and unfurl her giant wings. ("Why would a sea dragon need wings?" Apparently they act like paddles, damn strong ones, that allow her to move as fast as possible, allowing her to even sometimes bend space..._Awesome_. Books are enlightening… especially when they aren't in Shakespeare _moi_ can't read.) And she glared at me.

_What the fuck?_

"_Oooh, seems like someone's in trou~ble,_" Ana whisper-sang, loudly. I kinda liked this bitch locked in a sword and silent more right now.

"**_Would you care to explain to me why you kept me locked on your shoulder, your majesty?_**" Maré was _angry_. Never mind the 'your majesty' schtick. She continued hissing, "**_Do you know how worried sick I was, my little fledgling? Oh, how horrible it was for me to watch those foolish eidolons harm you, little one. Or to sense how hurt you were, and I not being able to aid you. Oh, how frightening it was for me to watch you stare down Death again!_**"

I may have- _may have_\- yelped as Marlowe grabbed me and cradled me close to her. She began nuzzling me. _Scenting me,_ I realized with a pleasant start, _marking me as her own._ She cared enough about me to do that…? I mean, I barely know her. And her me. For dragons, all animals and creatures really, that is just….

But it was comforting. And I almost yawned, sleep sounded wonderful now, being rocked by my guardian dragon…

I came back to it when Ana giggled. "_Aww, aren't you the cutest little thing, Percillia!_"

I flipped her off and leapt from Marlowe's arms. After gathering my bearings- _Insomnia is a bitch_\- I glared at the disgruntled dragoness, accusingly. "Are you blaming _me_ for your being too lazy to leave my shoulder?"

"**_What is that supposed to mean, little one? That I neglect to do my duties? That I don't care enough about you?_**" Wait. Was that hurt? Why?

"Okay, so now it's _my_ fault... That you were absent," I turned around as I cleaned the altar, and turned Riptide to a circlet on my head. Ana was still floating, watching us eagerly. "I'm afraid that's the only reason I have, Marlowe. Not once since I accepted your oath, have you acted on it."

"**_So… you are telling me that you do not know that it was _****you ****_who kept _****me ****_frozen on your shoulder?_**" Marlowe rumbled slowly, her snowy eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"No," I looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Why the hell would I freeze my own supernatural protector? That's just fucking retarded. And how the _hell _did I freeze you?"

"_Oh, this just keeps getting better and better._" Maré and I ignored Ana and her gleeful clapping.

"**_Your _Deliria _persona, of course! You frost yourself to be her. Your dark hair turns to platinum blue, your eyes snowy with a dark outer ring, and your skin paler. In the process, little one, you froze me too._**" She said like it was obvious…. Which thinking about, yes. Yes, it is obvious.

"Sorry?" I grimaced and shrugged one shoulder sheepishly.

Marlowe sighed loudly, "**_Of course you wouldn't have known, little one. But I am not going back there again and wait for another time for the Freezing to melt so I can come out. Besides, how else will I get to know you better?_**" she hummed thoughtfully at the end.

"What?" I climbed up a stone column and and jumped on an arch to be eye-to-eye to her. "You can't not be a tattoo. How the hell am I supposed to hide a giant-ass dragon? And, _oh_? That is not even your _real_ height. You'd barely fit the Cabin. And- oh, fuck. How am I supposed to explain to Chiron that 'Oh yes, the giant dragon taking up the volleyball court is with me'? The old horse barley has the time and patience to put up with my not there impulsive control, already. And the campers! I think they are all pretty scarred from what happened to me today. But, _nooooo_\- let me just waltz in the dining pavilion for breakfast with a goddamn dragon trailing behind me! I'll give my little munchkins a heart attack! And the others a stroke! They're to young for that! And- _What?!_" I stopped mid rant, ignoring the rare redness on my checks, to see Marlowe looking at me in amusement and Ana laughing her ass off. _The nerve of them!_

"_Sorry, sorry,_" Ana waved me off, giggling, "_you're just too cute rambling all concerned like that, little princess_." Oh, and another one calling me that. And _little_? I get Maré calling me that, but Ana… _Bitch, fuck you._

"**_Or you could simply leave me here, in your basement, my fledgling,_**" she sounded way to amused to me and- Oh…. I bet my face looked quite hilarious, 'cause Maré chuckled and Ana was guffawing. I glared. "**_But you are correct. I will be accompanying you wherever you go. Ah, ah, no interrupting, little one. Patience,_**" she looked sternly at my panicked face. "**_I will, however, not go around in my true form,_**" She sighed, _forlornly_. "**_The sea is ever changing. It takes the shape of the mold it chose itself. One form is never enough to even attempt to contain it._**"- _Oookay…?-_ "**_We, creatures of the sea, are never satisfied with one form…Therefore I shall be taking on another form,_**" Marlowe announced. _Can she even do that?_

Yep. Yes, she can. Uh-huh. I jumped off the rafters and landed in a crouch next to the fluffy, pitch black-blue cat. She had a golden line of fur starting from the tip of her nose all the way to the tip of her tail. The tips of her ears were golden, and at the end of her snowy eyes, a little sapphire was placed. Yup, that is Marlowe everyone…

I squealed and crushed the _katze_ to my chest. I _love_ cats. "So _cuuuute_! Oh, my gods, you're so fluffy~." I kept hugging and nuzzling the grumbling Marlowe and ignoring the cackling pnévma. _Sigh, the fucking wonders of Insomnia…_ And then- "But that means I won't have your tattoo anymore," I pouted at the grumbling Maré.

She sighed exasperatedly -_Oi!_\- and I felt a tingling on my shoulder. "**_I guess you can hold on my sea serpent form for me,_**" she muttered. But the _katze_ was smiling.

"Merci, Marlowe." I still got my cool-ass tattoo and a protector cat. _Hehe_.

"**_You can let go of me now, little one,_**" Maré grumbled. I ignored her. And the fact that she is talking. I've seen weirder. Like fucking real dragons turning to tattoos that came from ceremonial daggers.

I took off the kimono and stayed in the tight black tank top and short shorts, and, for the next hour, I brewed some potions for my inventory. I'll never know when I might need a potion and not have time for making it. _Better safe than sorry._

Marlowe was lazing on the staircase, her snowy eyes following my every movement. Ana got bored when the '_drama was over_' and returned to the sword, resting on my head. Her 'voice' popping in my head from time to time.

I was just done with an expansion charm-turned-potion. (You deconstruct the inner working of a charm or spell and reconstruct it as a potion, matching ingredients to supposed outcomes. It is tiring and exhausting, but useful since potions come way easier to me than spells and charms. I'm still not at that degree of Mist manipulation, to use it as a more than for illusions purpose. But according to Al, I'm getting hell of a lot better.)

"**_Little one,_**" Marlowe called. I turned and caught her in time. "**_Impressive reflexes. But here_**"-she handed be a small-barely-the-size-of-my-own-small-palm royal purple, velvet pouch with golden string- "**_Use that potion on the pouch. And the shape-changing yellow potion for inanimates. And the stasis one, too._**"

"Sure…," I raised my eyebrow at my supposed mentor in 'watercraft'- whatever the everloving very-berry sherbet that is. ("**_My Lord did not only send me to stop you from getting yourself killed. You need someone to teach you watercrafts and how to handle, control and enhance your powers. No matter the degree of control you have now, there is still much for you to learn. I will be your tutor as well as your protector, my fledgling._**")

I dumped the potions.

"Now what, grumpy?" I smiled sardonically at her. She just swatted at my hair and rolled her eyes. "Oi, watch it ya' hockey puck!" I swatted right back at her and hissed. No sleep can do that to you. And it's been two frosty-hecked days, already….

"**_You like tattoos, do you not?_**" I nodded suspiciously. _Whatcha getting at here?_ "**_Turn that expandable pouch, that can virtually hold anything now- your very own portable inventory- into a tattoo,_**" she grinned, Cheshire-like. "**_Now do yourself and me a favor and stop covering you skin designs up. It was suffocating,_**" she shuddered.

I now had two broad black stripes between my elbow and Marlowe's tattoo. And I wiped off all the expensive- _not really_\- waterproof foundation, thanks to an annoying _katze._

"Do you think it's a good idea to bind all my weapons- knives and daggers- to me? Like I did to you and Ana?" I asked the cat around my neck as I send a humidly, brisk wind to blow off (..._bad choice of words probably…_) the candle and torches. And let us not forget the giant-ass chandelier.

As much as this place looks new and barely used at all, it is almost ancient. As if it was made a long time ago and had been added to for as long as this place stood. Maybe it was put under a stasis-charm to preserve it? Some books look old enough to be fossil fuels, really.

"**_Hmm? Maybe. Though do not expect human-like spirits like Anaklusmos. She only has one, because she was made by a part of a person's essence and because of how old she is and what she has seen throughout her…life. If you are lucky they would have animal spirits that, with some lessons, you could give them corporeal bodies… perhaps to aid you…._**" For a cat, Maré sure can talk…

A good thing about Cabin Three's that it is _nothing_ like what one would expect. Except for the color scheme. Blues, greens, purples, gold, bronze and silver. Other colors were thrown here and there. Depends, though.

It was wider on the inside, not unlike the other Cabins.

There was a queen sized bed. With an overstuffed headboard and _lots,_ like _lots_, of pillows. All sizes and shapes. The bedsheets were velvety like silk and water. _Hehe_. The covers and blankets were fluffy and cozy, the temp changing from warm to cool. Depends, though. The color palette was, however, all shades and tints of blue and green, some gold, bronze, and silver thrown here and there for the seams. It was _very _bouncy.

And the best part? Even though the bed was probably the only constant, the place couldn't choose what it wanted to look like!

You can't expect it, if it keeps changing.

A penthouse, a Victorian chamber, a wooden cottage, an underwater alcove, a military camp, a- _oh, for fuck's sake, at least it doesn't change every day._ That would give even _me_ a headache. But it's a good thing the scenario changes, a good thing it's fickle. Consistency is a good thing, but it get me anxious. I'm a spontaneous person and I need random.

Except for the bed. If it is not the same damn bed, there is no way in Luci's hellish kingdom am I going to be having a good night's sleep.

Now, though the place chose to look Victorian. Curtains grew around the bed, and a water pitcher appeared on the claw-footed bedside table. A velvety, blue and golden carpet covered the wooden floor.

Anyway, I looked at the time again. _Almost…_

I looked at my bedside, gazing at a beautiful gift a bro of mine made me a few years ago. _Keep moving,_ he'd say. So that's what I will do.

"**_What are you thinking, little one?_**" the black _katze,_ perched on my shoulder, asked a bit skeptic at my hesitancy.

I didn't answer her. I just grabbed my scrying mirror from where I put it on my bedside table when I took it out of the silver briefcase earlier. It was oval shaped, probably as big as a laptop screen (_I do need to put my face in it_) with intricate black, stygian iron metal working for the frame around the black, reflective and clear obsidian slate, acting as the mirror; small seashells, pearls and some precious stone were littered here and there.

Yep, that is pure awesomeness right there. But I never said that, of course. The guy doesn't need a bigger ego.

Anywho, yes, a scrying mirror, spy glass, whatever you want to call it. It could range from being a bowl of water to a large body of water, or simply a mirror.

Depending on the amount of power I use on it, I can go from following someone- _one could say spying_\- to seeing very vague, worse-than-demigod-dreams snippets from other times from said someone's life- past and possible future outcomes, which I haven't even attempted. _Way, way, waaay_ too much power, god-level, thank you very much.

I settle for spying with it, especially for highly trained individuals, who could sense my presence, if I was there, personally. I don't use it much. It's more fun to sometimes be blindsided by what I'm getting myself into.

I took a deep breath and pushed my magic/aura/essence (_still can't choose what to call it…_) into the mirror. The obsidian surface rippled, like the surface of a lake. I took another deep breath and pushed my face into the mirror, with one name on my mind.

_Luke…_

_I opened my eyes and found myself sorta floating in the forest. Out of body experience- very interesting. _

_Back to the point, I spotted Luke walking towards the poop pile- eh, Zeus' fist- like he did almost everyday at the same time when he thought everyone was asleep. I began following him. I was aware of everything around me. But nothing around me was aware of me. Since I'm still in Cabin Three, you know. Hah!_

_A chill blew threw the forest, though it wasn't wind._

"_My Lord," Luke bowed in the general direction of the chill. He stayed on his knees for awhile._

"_What is it you want now, Castellan?" Grandpa dearest's voice passed through my ears like a cheese grater, delightfully undelightful. He sounded bored and pissed._

"_My Lord, you know I would never dare question your-"_

"_Get to the point, Castellan," Kronos, sounding I'm-tired-of-this-bullshit, cut Luke short. My big brother figure looked _so _meek and submissive, it was pathetic._

"_Of course, my Lord, of course," he fucking hesitated after all the groveling. And began in a wavering voice, "Today, during the game… you promised, my Lord that you would not hurt her. But she almost died, my Lord. The eidolons and hounds-"_

"_Ah, yes," Gramps sounded oddly pleased with himself. "I hope they were… entertaining."_

_Luke gulped and opened his mouth, "But my Lord, you promised-"_

"_I did not promise you anything, foolish boy!"- okay, calm the fuck down, old man- "If I remember correctly, I said she wouldn't be swayed, and that I would be finding a way to do so. Intimidation will not be the way to gain an ally in her, afterall. She has seen too much for a simple scare to persuade her, if anything, she would take it as an insult."- you got that right, sock sucker- "Also she does not, particularly, care for her life. To hurt her, you hurt those she deems close. She would not lift a blade against them. Her getting hurt in the process was nothing but a bonus," he sorta, kinda chuckled. Read: creeped me the fuck out along with my poor ears._

"_But, my Lord, she is too powerful an ally to die," Luke tried another strategy, though still on his knees with his head bowed. That must hurt._

"_And too powerful an enemy to live," my grandfather countered._

"_That is why I am asking if, you, my Lord, could leave me the task of recruiting her," Luke tried again, fisting his hands to stop the shaking. "She values family deeply, and she could be swayed if approached accordingly. And as you said, my Lord, intimidation would not work on her."_

_There was a thick silence. The fucker knows how to play. He's got Luke in too deep already. And besides the fact that they are discussing me, they are correct. About the intimidation part. Seen too much for any lasting effects. _

"_Very well," g-pa suddenly said, suspiciously cheery. Yet Luke's shoulders sagged in relief. "You have your chance, Castellan. Do not waste it or mess it up like your previous one. Or I will be… _displeased_."_

"_Thank you, my Lord," Luke bent even further. It was pitiful, how the proud, level-headed counselor, who almost everybody looked up, willingly became someone's _bitch_. Disgusting._

_And just like the chill suddenly appeared, it disappeared. _

_Luke took a deep breath and stood. His eyes wandered and stopped through me. He couldn't see me, I knew that for a fact. _

_He then sighed and shook his head, "Why the Hades are you such a difficult person, Perci? Couldn't you just be that naive new camper with daddy issues and a whole lot of resentment?" But then he got angry, "Everything was going damn good before you showed up. Campers weren't claimed. The place was barely livable. Shitty conditions-" he took out a sword and started hacking at trees… the dryads are _not _going to like that- "Everything. Was. Going. According. To plan. But, no. You just had to make everything better. And now? They like it here. A thriving kingdom under the fucking warrior queen. Hero of the Unclaimed. A Weapons Mistress. You just had to come and fuck me up so hard? Didn't you?!"_

_Okay…I didn't know was such the bad guy here. But I am seriously getting conflicting vibes now. Fuck you, Luke._

_I kept following him till he reached Cabin Eleven, grumbling all the way at how much he wishes to hate me and how he hated how lovable I was… Bipolar fucktard._

I took a deep breath as I took my head out the mirror. I was very…conflicted. It wouldn't be the first time I watched him. (_Not like that fucking perverts._)

But to know that it was him summoning those creatures- 'cause they had to be summoned from within, and from his shock tonight, let's just hope it wasn't an open invitation for any on his Crookedness' pets- was a real damper on my already dampened mood…. The bitch tried to kill me.

"**_Are you okay, little one?_**" the voice of my concerned guardian cut through my thoughts. She was liking my cheek, and I couldn't help the little smile that crept on my face.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's dandy, Mar," I sighed. I closed my eyes and tried to get a feel of the magical boundary coming from my pine tree cousin, surrounding Camp.

I send my magic there, with my cat, figuring my plan, encouraging me, and tried to tie my magic to the ward's. I haven't realised that I was humming

"**_You could call it the Siren Effect,_**" Maré answered my unanswered question. "**_It'll work the same as how it did earlier with Anaklusmos. Your voice is a powerful weapon in your arsenal, Percillia. Do not forget that._**"

The wards were getting nicer, easier to… _communicate?_ with, and I think I heard a _Green Day _song. _Yup, that's Thalia, alright_. I tied my essence to it. Willing it to be stronger. My humming got louder.

"_I, Percillia Rhea Jackson, self-proclaimed protector and guardian of Camp Half-Blood and its inhabitants, ask for permission to reinforce its protections and to aid my cousin in doing so_," my voice is almost vibrating and was getting louder. And I was speaking an ancient Ancient Greek. I could feel the boundary quivering. Anticipating, I suppose. " _I, Percillia, protector of my kind, kindly ask to implement stronger fortifications to be barriers to all those who mean this place harm. And for Camp Half-Blood to forever be a safe sanctuary for those who need it_," I ended in a whisper.

A soft breath-like sensation settled on and through the place. And I don't, for one second, believe that there is one person who did not feel it.

I knew this oath dumped lots of responsibilities on me. _I seriously need to find a way to get Pinecone Face out of that tree, somehow, someway but soon._

The only documentations I've found so far of people-turned-tree, are just about them turning to trees, not how to un-turn them. The library here should have something. But I am damn well not ready to go through it.

_Oh, the things you do for family…._

I was now tired, drained, exhausted and wanted nothing more than to hit the hay. The comfortable type of hay that was my new queen sized bed.

"I want cuddles, Maré," I muttered and opened my arms and my multichromatic cat started to purr. I think I did too under the fluffy and warm comforter and sea of pillows.

The room was somewhat calming- the rich and royal design _somewhat_ making my ego purr in delight-, yet still, curled up with Marlowe on my hip in my mother's- familiar scents (_Yes, I have a good nose, sheesh._) calm me- oversized sweater, I couldn't sleep.

It was almost past three in the morning and Dio's wine-Clarisse and Annabeth needed a drink after the exorcism to forget how un-incontrol and gross they felt after the eidolons left their bodies and _after they_ went to sleep a pair of brunette twins came to check up on their little sister (they warned me they'd break in my Cabin soon enough, and I'd let them. We lost contact a couple years back, and we thought the other dead. It was nice to know they actually weren't.), which ended in another round of drinks- and my music failed to get me sleepy. I kinda threw caution in the garbage shredder and walked out the Cabin.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be asleep?" I furiously whispered at the _katze_ trailing behind me.

She looked at me, a deadpan on her face and in her voice. She said softly but still stern, "**_I thought we already established that I will not be leaving you unattended, _****your highness.**"

I groaned. At least the formalities are only for teasing, I suppose. I shook my head, too tired to retort.

I made my way to the blazing hearth in the middle of the Cabins. My peaceful aunt was deep in thought. Her form was not the eight year old she prefered, but an older, twenty-something year old form. It matched her bright and warm godly form. She turned around when she saw me.

"Hello, Percillia," she greeted with a warm smile and motherly voice, while stroking the flaming hot coals with her hands. It was nice.

"Hey, _Tía,_" I said softly and smiled back. I sat in front of her, my high tolerance to fire helping lots, also aunt Hestia was very considerate. Maré curled onto my lap. I began stroking her absently as I soaked in my _Tía_'s lovely aura.

"You couldn't sleep again?" She asked softly. I took a deep breath and shook my head, not meeting her flaming irises- not meeting her eyes. "I sense a bit of residual magic on you," she continued looking pointedly at the purr-fest on my lap and Ana now an anklet- _don't ask…_

"I was… a bit preoccupied,_Tía,_" I admitted with a shrug. "I was bored, and something dangerous sounded good."

She only hummed in reply and kept staring at me. I sighed in defeat and met her wide, almond-shaped eyes. "I may need a bit of… affection," I mumbled lowly.

She softened her scrutinizing and opened her arms. It wouldn't be the first time I slept in her embrace. She doesn't ask questions, probably her motherly instincts and intuitive, knowing nature.

She began humming, her eyes looked a little sad when our eyes met. But I fell asleep before I could ask her what's wrong.

And, of course, I most absolutely _can not_ have a good night's dream.

_Fuck you, Morpheus and Hypnos. To the Rhine and back, five times and a half and three quarters._

_It started out, well, dark. In a cave. In front of a bone-chilling pit. Yeah, it immediately started in front of Great-something Uncle Tartarus. _Great_._

"_Hmm, you look just as stunning as your grandmother," a cold, menacing voice mused/ grated, depends on how you see it. I didn't know if I should feel offended or flattered, what with the tone and words clashing._

"_And your voice is just as charming as the annoying static from earlier, grandpa," I answered sweetly, ignoring my self-preservation's blaring red light signals to shut the fuck up and be polite._

_Surprising me- and himself, probably- he laughed. It was _charmingly _harsh and grating. Probably from the years he spent in his retirement home. Uncle Tarty must've been a _marvelous _host. "You amuse me greatly, granddaughter."_

"_Aww, you're calling me family," I grinned toward the black nothingness, sure he could see it. "Too bad you burned all your chances of being my grandpa. What with the astounding count of assassination attempts you send especially for me," I continued sweetly._

"_Only the best for you, granddaughter," Kronos continued as if we were talking over a cup of tea about the newest dress he got me. "Yet here you are. I had to use a… not insignificant amount of power to talk to you. Since surpassing your mental barricades proved too taxing and would really defeat the purpose."_

"_Hmm," I grinned, Cheshire-like. "Flattery will get you nowhere. But I still hope you found them interesting enough."_

"_Oh, don't you worry your pretty head, engóni."- grandchild, huh, you ancient fucker- "They were far more interesting than your cousin's. Bloody and cannibalistic battlefields can only repel one for so long. And I ate my children, you know. But you already figured a way around that, I suppose? Since I can't even entertain myself with visions of puny mortals destroying each other," his voice turned extra frosty. Well, bitch…_

"_Trips to Olympus are absolutely delightful, grandfather! Especially at night. It most certainly gives New York a run for the title of 'The City that Never Sleeps'," I answered him, a bit too preppy. I could feel his anger now. I am an aggravating bitch._

"_You know you won't be able to find it. Not even he knows where he hid it before you… saved his mentality," He said scathingly._

"_Oh, quit with the pronoun game," I rolled my eyes, completely ignoring my toes and fingers suffering from frostbite. "It's old, overused and absolutely useless, g-pa."_

"_I should smite you for your insolence!" He roared, his aura flaring and…for the first time, I may have experienced what it may have felt like to get crushed under the deep ocean's pressure. Not fun. But I tried to ignore it. _

_Fake it till you make it, eh?_

"_But ya didn't. 'Cause ya can't," I answered mockingly, wanting to desperately leave. And live. I turned a bit more serious, "If you only brought me here to mock me… well… You wasted your breath. And power. Just like you did with that ward during the game. You can't even give yourself a form to appear with instead of this darkness… Now I'm not even interested to know why I am here. Good bye, grandfather." _

_I then- for some impulsive reason- bit my thumb. And I could hear him bellowing in outrage about how dare I bite my thumb at him. "No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you sir; but I bite my thumb, sir," I whispered lowly. _

_Damn, Annabeth's being thorough with her torture- discipline. Nah, it's torture._

_As I forcibly flung myself from there, I met his eyes for less than a second. Though I was fucking sure I would probably remember them for longer than I ever wanted. A pair of the coldest and most malevolent golden eyes I will ever see. The color not unlike the haze that follows Luke everywhere, or the one that almost clouded Ares' aura completely. _

_The brute lives. Luke's fucking up. And I am currently hyperventilating as I landed in a familiar white room with five familiar people._

"_You okay there, Fish Face" Thalia asked with, dare I say it, concern in her voice. I must've looked pretty terrible for that reaction._

"_Just peachy," I said between pants and my eyes closed-when did I close them? "Who knew a talk with grandpa dearest can be so hazardous?"_

"_Knowing you, _cuginetta_, you got him pretty pissed off," Bianca pitched from her own chair, with a hint of disapproval. I ignored her calling me little cousin… Well…she _is _almost a century old. So… _

"_Maybe…?" I said slowly, shrugging in the annoying straight-jacket._

"_Why would you bad mouth Saturn?" Jason really needed to wrap his head around my impulsiveness and self-preservation taking permanent vacations._

_Little Hazel, who was physically and mentally older than me, sighed and turned her own warm and soft golden eyes-nothing like Kronos'- at me, "Are _you _okay?"_

_I smiled at her genuineness. "A little shaken up. But I'll be okay. The fucker wanted to smite me…," I grumbled the last part. Hazel, being the sweet soul she is, flinched and grimaced at my choice of words._

"_You know," Nico talked for the first time today. "Your sleeping routine is really messing us up, Perci."_

"_Mhm, it totally is fucking stuff up. Being a tree is too damn boring for me to bother with your sleeping schedule," Thalia scowled._

"_Or lack thereof," Bianca muttered._

"_So now it's my fault?" I asked incredulously. "That doesn't make sense. It ain't my fault Zeus is a dick." He _is _the reason all of them are where they are now, if you think about it._

"_How about a psychic link? To talk whenever."_

"_That is… actually brilliant, Nico," I thoughtfully cocked my head to the side, my fantastic bun following._

"_Huh," Thalia wondered. "It is, Death Breath. If it works though…"_

"_Anything is better than wandering in a dark, silent field of incoherent souls as far as I am concerned," Hazel shrugged._

"_You do realize how dark that sounds, right, _sorellina_?" Bia asked with a dark eyebrow raised. Hazel just shrugged again._

"_I've heard 'bout mind links. It's like a two way bridge of some sort? I remember something on how the ritual takes a hella lot of power and one wrong step can destroy the person's mind," Jason recited. Cute._

"_True." They refocused their attention on me. "I read about it. Marlowe-"_

"_Your lazy guardian dragon?" Nico interrupted. "Is she awake?"_

"_Yeah, her. And, yup. Anywho, Marlowe was supposed to also be my mentor. She knows a lot about magic and rituals. Ancient ones too. I could look into it, mind links, with her? To make sure we keep our…fleeting sanity as intact as possible?" I suggested._

_We were contemplative for a bit._

"_You do know you can make a mind bond naturally?" Hazel thought out loud. "Like how mortals have wordless conversation with their eyes? The longer and more closely they know each other? They do not have the magic for words to be telepathically shared. But enough that their emotions guide them."_

"Like, if we… forcibly? share our thoughts to one another?" Bia asked.

"Hmm. I guess," Hazel shrugged. "It'll begin as simple as feelings that aren't yours, then it escalates to thoughts. At some point a conversation can be made between all six of us."

"It's sometimes way too easy to forget who your mother is, Haze," Jason grinned

"It is so awesome to have a witchy sister," Nico beamed.

"You, Peanut," I looked at Hazel scrutinizingly, trying to distract her from my oblivious male cousins' words. I guess she still is not over what her mother did. Though we don't know much about it. Touchy subject. And the Grace's too. "Are going to teach me, at some point, everything you know."

"Fine by me," our resident pine tree shrugged. "At least I get to bother you all. Oh, and Perci? Thanks for the boost earlier, oh great protector of demigods." She then began singing. See? Barely sane. And she left behind confused face, to which I threw tell-ya-later looks.

I kinda regret introducing her to Imagine Dragons, now.

"Urghh," I groaned as I wiggled my way out of the straight jacket. "Who wants to spar with me?" I grinned at the bloodthirsty looks that snapped my way. Ever since we managed to untangles ourselves from these horrible white jackets and learned we can summon weapons…. Well, you can guess what happens next.

Hazel is a super fast learner. And she can by now handle most weapons I throw her way. She and my other cousins. (Playing Drill Sergeant is so much fun!) But, since she flipping adores horses, her chosen weapon is a spatha. Even if it still drags from its sheath. She grew enough muscles to be able to hold it now. And she is very efficient with it.

Bianca, on the other hand, is a demon with knives, her Padre gave her in the form of a pair of glowy bronze and amethyst earrings. And I've seen a demon with knives. Yes, Bia is almost as efficient with hunting knives as Mazikeen- Hell's most notorious torturer- is with her Karambit ones. She has the talent she just needs muscle memory, reflexes, instincts and experience. (I think I should arrange for her and Maze to meet. Maze is a good tutor when it comes to killing and blood shed, I should know.)

Moving on, Sparky II and Sparky I were actually pretty impressive with spears.

Jason has his Ivlivis, a javelin or sword, depends on how you flip the Imperial Gold coin. ("Just stabbing isn't enough. You can't guarantee that you'll always have a squad with you. Yes it's the Roman fucking way! I know that. A little Greek won't taint your Roman-ness. Get your head in the damn game, cretin. And don't forget that Rome is still a Greek scam, sweetheart. Oh, shut your trap and put a little slashing to your technique, punk!"... Drill Sergeant is such a fun role.) Regardless, he is still a very impressive warrior for his age. And I never said that. The lil' bish has too much Roman pride.

Thals, however, got turned into a tree with a canister of mace that turns into an annoyingly good electric-conducting glowy bronze spear, and - her favorite- a bracelet that turns into a, damn good, replica of the Aegis, a glowy bronze shield with Medusa's fugly face screaming atcha. It doesn't turn you to stone, but it might as well, 'cause you get petrified from fright at the fugliness…. Ah, well. It ails me to admit that I need her help with a spear. With her and Rissa on my ass, I can eventually not skewer my eye. I'm fine with a Bo Staff, just not a spear. But a damper, she needs sword lessons. Terribly.

Nico and I prefer swords. His silver skull ring with rubies for eyes, apparently a gift from his Padre, turns into a black, Stygian Iron xiphos. The little incubus is very skilled with his sword. But when we face-off I destroy any confidence he has. Decades in a casino can do that to some. But he's getting better. He is better now. Experience and muscle memory, however, do not come from playing video games non stop- all day, every day.

You should see our battle royales. Weapons or not. They're fucking awesome. And we are all bloody savages. Yes, even level-headed Bianca and Sweet Haze. And we still haven't even started using our powers….

Imagine the destruction…. It gives us satisfaction that the white room is no longer a white room.

So, where was I talking about in the very beginning? Ah, yes… What in the sake of rocky-road, mint-chocolate-chip and birthday cake ice cream am I doing in throne room of Olympus?

Okay so…sigh…how do I explain this?

Okay, so physically I was on Olympus. While I was asleep. But in mind, _moi_ was still playing Drill Sergeant with my dear cousins. _Hehe._

I guess this is important enough for me _not _to hear but for _you_ to hear. (_And yes, I did just break the fourth wall._) So, for plot purposes, I will not be your attention-grabbing,

badass commentator for a while.

Let us just hope that trend doesn't continue, eh?

"_Fuck you, Percillia!" Jason tackled me to the ground._

**Hello, uh...um. Soooo. What do ya think about Percillia and magic? It's probably gonna be important later on. And thoughts about that ritual. Too much? Good? Okay? And Marlowe, watcha think? And everyone say hello to Ana! I like the little Big Threes' dynamic. I have so much to say, but I can't remember exactly what. Sigh. So next chapter will probably be the quest. Anything you would like Perci do? Something new, not book or Greek Mythology related? I already have a couple ideas. But I love input. **

**About the scrying part, I read once that Poseidon had Delphi before Apollo was born or that he held some prophetic domain but passed it to Apollo later on. There will be more insight on that next chapter (I hope.)**

**About the Poseidon Cabin interior design... Yeah, I have no regrets. **

**Percillia has lots of skeletons in her closet (real and metaphorical skeletons.) Mama-bear-badass Sally rocks. She's usually this calm and collected and fierce and mortal character... With me? Honey, no. You've got a whole storm coming. **

**And Vremya is Russian for time...*wink-wink, devotchka- little girl. **

**So, because of Percillia's wild and worldwide affairs, she knows lots of language, her heritage and some ****acquaintances contribute to her extensive knowledge to ancient, ancient tongues besides Ancient Greek and Latin. She can go further back. Hopefully during the quest it'll be shown. It also explains why she is magically adept.**

**Also do you think it is a good idea to make the little Big Three females, be some seductresses of some sort? Perci already is. A siren. Hint: it's not just because of Poseidon.**

**And do you like the chapters short or long?**

**And review. Please. Please review. They motivate me to write more. Bye~**

**-Sorry for the notification. Sigh, a big part of the chapter was not...there. So, yeah-**

**-3anona, out!**


	13. Explaining the confusing? Chapter 12

Hello to all who read this...

So, I kinda got the memo that last chapter was a bit confusing. And hectic. And all over the place. I got the memo that I might explaining stuff. Each point will be in bold with explanation underneath.

**Magic and Rituals:**

Okay, so there is a reason Percilia is efficient in it. It will be explained later in the story. In that part, I just wanted to give a little push in showing her magically adept side. Like I said before in an A/N, she is powerful and not afraid to show it. She is overly physically capable for her age. It will also be explained later, as will her being a Siren. She has lots of magic-related 'trophies'- as she likes to call them. The ritual this chapter was for binding Riptide to her by blood. One hell of a bond. She also has future plans for her other weapons, as she discussed with Marlowe.

Her mind walls are also very important. _My body, My min, My rules_. The barriers are as strong as she believe but if a powerful someone tries to, they can break them, shattering her mind in the process( maybe not that dramatic, but still not good.) Not good. So make them stronger girl, and keep pouring that magic into them!

The her keying herself into the Camp's boundary wards is very important. She'll know when Camp is under attack and when someone means the place or its inhabitants nothing good. She'll be alerted. It also strengthens the mind connection with Thalia, and Thalia and Hazel are the ones with the most time on their hands, they will be building the connection. Perci now has the most access to Thalia, which'll then spread to the others from Thalia. The Camp boundary is now powered by not only Thalia's essence but Perci's also. The other Little Big Three will be joining too. Maybe not Jason and Hazel, though. The Olympians don't need to know that they now about each other.c

**Catacombs of Paris:**

Perci isn't the way she is because of sitting in class, listening to teachers droning on and being a pretty little princess. She's had lots of dark shit thrown her way. Lots of shit she doesn't want out of her mind. It wasn't a pretty incident. She got tortured and mutilated by a ruthless, time-worshiping cult (_you better get the hint_). Not pretty. I also wanted a way to introduce Kýma Marlowe. I will also be droppinf past events from Perci's life on the during chapters, so when she is suddenly in Cambodia or Slovakia don't panic. Oh, and badass Sally has her own Bold point.

**Marlowe:**

Marlowe honestly was a spur of the moment addition. She is a sea dragoness. Powerful. And very, very, _very_ old. She is very knowledgeable as shown. And even though Perci is very capable in using her powers- she can change her outer appearance (by frosting her figure in a not-perma-frozen way that looks natural enough- Deliria Rheason), she can also turn water to ice: during Capture the Flag she made instant chains and ice-blocks to hold her friends and place to get rid of the eidolons- something we did not see The Percy do, hell he was afraid of controlling poison- which could've helped him through out the book like with Pit Scorpion and the Chimera, those are just a few. Yes, she can manipulate any liquid, but with differing intensities. Marlowe knows she is _very_ powerful for her age, she also knows that, unlike The Percy, she has grips in her father's other domains and is expanding with loopholes. Marlowe is a protector and mentor to Perci. My baby girl needs to reach full potential and beyond. I also liked the idea of a movable-expandable-stasis-ed-pouch-tattoo inventory.

**Badass Sally Jackson:**

Sally is a badass, all the fandom can agree on that. She is sit very much mentally and emotionally stable despite her son's effed-up life. Hell, she just took a gun from a sleeping officer and started shooting the enemy in the Battle of Manhattan. Badassery right there. She killed her husband. Yes, she is sweet and supportive and every role model for mothers out there. A little awesome-dust sprinkled won't take away her sweetness. Yes, she slaughtered a cult for her daughter and all the girls before her. She doesn't take shit from know one and won't stand for those giving it out. Also Paul's sword-slaying from his days of Shakespeare and how well he is like "Okay, yeah, my stepson is half god and there is an entire world I can't see that is still there...Honey, would chicken and pasta do for dinner?". He piqued my interest. Decisions, decisions.

**Major Calder's Excerpt: **

That little thing was for the Paris Incident and proof of how invested she is in learning stuff- not school stuff (the Math and Science are necessary for her line of work and for later on.) She never knows when she'll need something. It's better to have something you don't need, than to need it and not have. Also, knowing more is very important for her. After all, if something could go wrong it will. Better for her to know how to fix it in time.

**Cabin Three:**

I was just lazy to describe something I will likely forget latter on... So why not a place that keeps changing that is perfect for a metaphor, irony and indirect-foreshadowing? Brilliant. Poseidon also knows about his daughter's fiascoes. Most of them. He is an overprotective daddy with his sons, imagine his first mortal daughter? So, the basement is like a pseudo-not-gift-gift? I don't know that thing was always there( according to me) he just keeps adding to it and copying important shit for Atlantis' archives and libraries( _say whaaaa...o_0_) and adding it there. He is intuitive and a bit premonition-esque. Which brings us to the next point.

**The Scrying Mirror: **

As I said in the last A/N Posiedon had some sort of prophetic shtick in the past. He gave it away. Dude's got a lot on his overflowing( get the pun? get the pun? Cause he's the Sea god and over...flowing? No, okay I'll shut up) plate. So it is not weird for him and his desendants to have strong intuitions and a bit premonition-ic ability- strong gut feeling. Scrying, also known by various names such as "seeing" or "peeping", is the practice of looking into a suitable medium in the hope of detecting significant messages or visions, or foretelling the future using a crystal ball or other reflective object or surface. Thanks, Google. So yeah. water is a reflective surface...then come Loopholes. She ain't carrying a bowl of water every where she goes. Even with the invetory tattoo. The mirror was made by a bro. A skilled bro. Someone good with building stuff. Brilliant, I hope the clues will be enough. Because although the bro doesn't do shit and basically doesn't exsist in the beging of the story, he is important. Probablly won't be showing much, but he. is. important. Okay.

**Kronos and Luke: **

Yes, Luke is the bad guy. Perci is too perceptive and smart to not figure it out, especially with the Fate-given ability of h\er's, which will be explained next chapter. Also, guys... Kronos isn't very discrete, subtlety is overrated to him. Yes, he is connected to the Vremya cult. I know Perci is very pro-family, but she remembers and isn't dumb to not recognize his signature in some unfortunate events that happened to her, she knows it was him, she just doesn't know why. But she's getting there, Sabrina the mummy is a key... maybe she does need to give her that makeover some time, huh?

**Little Big Three:**

I love them, I love them, I love them. I want them to know each other. So they will. They are important for the future(duh...) They have to have a good relationship, we wouldn't want a repeat of WW2( Other Little Big Three's) and the American Civil War( Greek vs. Rome). No, thank you. They will be popping up every now and then in dreams till they are where they'll be needed.

**Next chapter will be the Olympians' POV but in Perci-style( I hope), but if the conversations are formal sounding blame the assholes in the sky. I hope I went over everything, if not, please, do not hesitate to say so. **

**I will be making chapters shorter, unless otherwise was requested. And since it FINALLY the last week of school, there should be more frequent updates. And don't freak if Percillia goes to other thoughts then back to where she is currently.**

**Ooh, yes. I'm thinking of adding little summaries at the end of the chapter for explanations to not repeat last chapter's confusion. **

**-3anona, out!**


	14. Be Prepared For Sensational News

**Disclaimer: the title's from Be Prepared from the Lion King 1994 (**I don't know bout you but that new version of the song is a majo T**)**

Chapter 13: Be Prepared For Sensational News

Olympus

Olympus, what a lovely place. Olympus, what a damn loud place. Oh, Olympus…_can't you please be quiet?!_

No one on Olympus is expected to be anything but a rowdy teenager (or middle aged man) watching a ballgame during the Greeks' Capture the Flag.

Olympus-dwellers were all in the Arena, a _very_ distinctive separation between them. The Blue Team and the Red Team.

The sounds were _fucking deafening_. Imagine a Neade- an animal with damn loud roar that splits the friggin earth-, a pterodactyl and a banshee fucking _and_ giving birth to the most annyoying and loud creature ever and you still won't get how loud it was, dammit!

On the Blue side, Athena, Apollo, Hermes, Poseidon, Zeus, Hestia and their supporters were comically blue.

The Red side wasn't much better. Ares, Demeter, Artemis, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Hera and their supporters were all hilariously red.

Poor Hades was still in Underworld. Alone. Watching the game on Hephaestus TV 'cause Iris was putting a Hades lot of power into broadcasting the game in the Arena. His Persephone was on Olympus, his Helm was stolen. _Yeah… _Hades wasn't the cheeriest of the bunch. But who cares, right? His siblings certainly d-

_Okay!_ thank you, Hades, but no thanks. No sulking now!

Forget the damn etiquette and their status as damn gods, they were all hyped up for this game. Hades, some were even frothing at the mouth.

Yup, fucking _savages._

But whatever happens during the games, stays during the games.

You couldn't find anyone talking about how Hestia was pelting the opposite team with blue or red rock chocolates with colorful vocabulary to follow.

Or how Athena and Poseidon were once found dry humping with bottles of whiskey in their hands.

Or how Aphrodite and Hephaestus and Ares for seven minutes in heaven.

Or-

_Yeeeah_, that's enough.

Those games were always intense and exciting (_understatement of the fucking millenia_). Every time something new could be added. A stink bomb, a spell gone wrong that turns their bones to jelly and their skin neon pink, or spell that didn't go wrong that still fucks them up. Transformers meet Metal Godzilla. Rotten food bazookas. The variety.

This time, however, was a bit different. It could be summed up in two words: Percilia Jackson.

Yup, that bitch who gives zero fucks and doesn't care if you are a god or cockroach. Everyone was seriously looking forward to this game, to see if the rumors of her prowess during her 'initiation' were true or not. (Though some _were_ curious enough to go watch said initiation. New slayer of the Minotaur's fighting? Hades yeah I'm watching.)

And of course, they heard- felt, really- how she was dabbling in all their domains- strengthening them by using them, digging deeper beyond the obvious. Their powers although great was nothing compared to the old times. And, now, thanks to the little, mysterious demigoddess and whatever exactly she's doing they were getting it back.

_The Glory of Old._

But you never heard them saying that.

Percillia was also helping their children. Whether it be by discovering their powers, unlocking new powers, all the opportunities she's given them or helped them open their eyes too….

Also, the question of who her godly parent was on everyone's mind. Everyone had their own theories. Though, she was too random and you could find her everywhere. She was smart, and didn't trip up. So far.

Also, adding to the fact that they can't get into her head. Her mind walls truly were one hell of a buffer. And they weren't desperate enough to start stalking her.

Yet.

So, it would be insulting if you said they weren't all as eager for the game as puppies were for a game of fetch.

Immortality gets boring often enough. If something surprises them, then it probably is worth their time.

They watched as Chiron announced the beginning of the game, the bloodlust and anticipation from their children, and the roar that followed as they all went to their assigned posts.

They were not disappointed with what they saw.

_A daughter of Demeter, Katie Gardner, was leading a group of her siblings- Red- to a clearing where they hid in a clearing, mixing with the foliage. A group of four Blues entered the clearing when suddenly the temperature dropped and they were shaking. And before the Blues were able to react, the girl shouted, "Now!". The next few seconds were a blur of terrified screams, man-grabbing plants, and chuckles until there were four green, human-sized cocoons, dangling or being carried away by the aurae- wind spirits- 'cause of disqualification, and the children of Demeter, gathering the fallen weapons and leaving behind a frozen clearing, cackling all the way…._

The silence lasted only for about two seconds, then the Red side exploded in cheers and sneering at the Blue side that was calling _bulllshit. _Demeter was the loudest of all.

"Yeah! Whooo! My babies kicked yo kólos"- ass- "to the ground! Yeah!," Demeter kept screaming as Hestia was as steady as the north star with those candies. Second loudest was Persephone, who was cheering for her baby brothers and sisters.

On the Blue side Hermes was vehemently calling out names.

_Dionysus' twins, Castor and Pollux, were seated on a tree. The air around the blondes reeked of rotting grapes. There was the odd camper in blue that passed through them. They immediately regretted it. They would just seize up all of a sudden and fall to the ground as if having a seizure. They would either scream their heads off or start laughing hysterically. The boys were using their father's power over insanity. Unheard of! Though it was obvious it was tiring them, the only reason reason they weren't passed out was perhaps the vials of some sort of energizing tonic they kept gulping down when they were done with a victim. They could still hear their screaming as the aurae dropped them in the infirmary. _

Dionysus, looking like a college frat boy, was over the damn non-existent-roof (he is allowed on Olympus during the games to "evaluate his charges"). The Red side was left hollering and the Blue sneering when the scenes cut to the Mad Twins.

_There was a face off between the children of Hephaestus and Hermes. Automatons vs. Golems. Anthropomorphic creatures created by either magic or in a workshop. It was very brutal to watch. Hephaestus' kids were all at a safe distance controlling the automatons with _very _complicated looking joysticks. Golems were humanoid creatures made with mud, clay or metal. They are infused with their creator's magic through the name engraved on their foreheads._ (Since they couldn't move their magic or the Mist to that degree, they used their blood to draw runes. Their blood has magic enough- being half-gods and all.)

_They take commands telepathically from only their Master- their creator. However, that power could be overridden if someone more powerful takes charge. Golems are virtually invulnerable, they have superhuman strength, and can only be defeated if the name on their forehead is erased or too messed up. Needless to say, the explosions of dirt and fire and metal pieces left the demigods in the infirmary._

Also cue the proud dad moments. Hermes and Hephaestus were seriously about to severely injure each other. It took the elder gods to hold them back, Hera and Demeter from one side and Zeus and Poseidon on the other. Hestia was busy looking for more rock candy.

_A group of Apollo's and Hecate's children were making trails of will-o'-the-wisp (or _ignis fatuus _-fool's fire- or hinkypunk- hehe) in the purposefully darkened forest patches, Apollo _is _the god of light, but that doesn't mean he can't take it away. Will-o'-the-wisp is known for misleading travelers, and being a metaphor for false hope. The demigods followed the pretty light and were silently taken out with arrows appearing randomly from the forest followed by rustling then eerie silence._

Also enter the proud mom and dad moment. Oh, and don't forget the screaming, kids! It's contagious!

_Ares and Athena's children were locked in brutal combat. It didn't pass on the gods the not-Greek styles in their fighting, though how little it was. The war gods were very analytical about it, but it wasn't for now to discuss. Now it was for them to jump at each other's throats. Their kids were now making it very hard for the other. _

_Ares' spawns were, somehow, able to replicate their father's ability to produce Anger. Anger makes you more ferocious- but sloppy. The Athena children, unknowingly, took a page out of Percillia's book and were spouting random trivia-did-you-know that were seriously messing with the others' heads and getting _them _angry. What an angry fest- sheesh!_

The scenes kept going back and forth. Though definitely non were disappointing.

At some point, Aphrodite produced two Uzis out of nowhere and started _howling_ and firing bullets into the air when her babies took out their own battalion of the Blue Team. And it was all the louder from the stunned silence that followed, but that was quickly taken care of. That is some Proud Mom Moment, trademarked with fuschia and black Uzis.

_They all watched as Luke Castellan, a son of Hermes, battered and bloody, overcame the final defense, man-eating plants and nauseating not-perfume, and snatched the flag, a purple shield-ward around him, and made his way to his side of the forest -not easy in the slightest, bro- winning the game for the Blue Team._

The Blue side made sure to not let the Red side forget who won. It was _loud!_ And ouch- did it hurt. Oh, the little sneaking thief. (_No foreshadowing here, nope. Go home._) Yeah!

But then they screen flickered again, and, _finally_, the mysterious demigoddess appeared. From the sounds coming from the forest, Luke was fighting the flesh-munching plants.

Iris seemed was just as curious. And one Hades of a director. She should look into the industry some time soon.

Percillia was lying on a boulder in the creek, headphones on, listening to music, and looking like she didn't have a problem with the world, or that a game-turned-mock-battle was going on behind her.

She ignored when a camper came out the forest screaming and subsequently grabbed by a very distinct looking grape-vines. She only hummed a "_Good job, boys_" and went back to humming with the song.

She also ignored when a metal shrapnel on fire was launched at her, only rolling to the side a bit to avoid it crashing into her. "_Nice_."

Also that one time when a stray arrow almost took her eye out. Her only reaction was to catch it when it was inches away from her face. With her eyes closed. They'd call her a show off, but there was no one around her, and she didn't know the entirety of Olympus's watching. "_Watch where your aiming, Mike-y!_" she scolded the son of Apollo as he jumped trees beside her.

There was nothing resembling a weapon on her. Her armour was in a crumpled heap beside her.

"Does this girl not have any self-preservation?" Elpis- goddess of Hope- wondered from the stunned spectators as a bunch of screaming, freezing and pink demigods appeared near her and were grabbed by Celestial Bronze whips. The girl gave her a significant boost, what with all the unintentional hope she's been giving to the Camp like candy.

"Maybe, Little Moxie isn't as much as she is made out to be," Ares sneered. All he saw was a tiny girl. She didn't even have a weapon!

"Shhh, something's happening," A voice shushed the growling Ares.

Perci's head suddenly snapped up, and a Cheshire smile lit up her sea green eyes. If Zeus wasn't so into the whole game spirit he would've done something very stupid. But his competitive side perked up when a group of Red's came against the Blue player a minute later.

Even though Percillia was now facing five armed demigods, and one was Clarisse La Rue, the notorious daughter of Ares, she seemed completely at ease, even going as far a taunting them.

"She really does not care about her wellbeing, does she?" A very calculative Athena asked, her daughter was near- and invisible. Poseidon snorted.

They didn't have time to wonder about that, 'cause Percillia was suddenly fighting of all five them with only a sword and an athame- _why is she fighting with a ceremonial dagger?_ Who knows. And the sword? Many recognized Anaklusmos, thanks to its bloody history.

She was impressive. She jumped in between the whips and slipped in out of the swords and fans and spear's reach like an agile little kitten. Or like water. It looked more like she was dancing, than actually sparring. It was very beautiful watching her fluid, graceful and non-awkward movements.

She got hurt, of course, but it was more like she let them do it….

"She's holding back," Hera noticed in disbelief.

"Why _is_ she holding back?" Nemesis, goddess of Retribution, mused.

"She's just toying with them!" Eris, the goddess of Strife, exclaimed gleefully.

"Or maybe she just doesn't want to hurt her friends?" Harmonia, the goddess of Harmony, suggested softly.

They just watched as she kept maneuvering around and knocked them all out. They also watched as eidolons came in and took over the group of Red's, they also watched as Percillia talked to them, and how contracted her muscles were, how much restraint she was showing. It wasn't obvious for mortals, at all. But the immortals with their superior senses were very aware of how much she was obviously holding back. She looked scary and pissed. Adorable.

They also continued to watch as she was almost chopped to ground meat in silence, she only screamed when the spear was too close to her heart for comfort with the floating knife in her gut. The eidolons were having a swell time enjoying their enemy's pain. A barrier was up, the children of Hecate working on taking it down.

Things got real bad real quick. "Oh, Theoi," an Oread, a mountain nymph, whined.

Yeah, nobody was going to acknowledge the menacing golden aura for as long as damn possible.

And, well, the little demigoddess was glaring daggers at Thanatos right now. Who was casually talking to her…

"Well, she was really pretty," a Naiad mourned.

"And cute."

"And brave."

"And fucking dead," a Keres, a female spirit of violent and bloddy deaths on the battlefield, said non-chalantly.

Poseidon whimpered. No one was in the mood to comment on it, they were more interested in the girl pulling a dagger and spear out of her gut and heart.

"_FUCKING HELL!" _her voice echoed in the absolute silence- here and there. "_That. Fucking. Hurt!_"

The spectators- immortal or mortal, Blue or Red- all cheered for her as she took the eidolons out with a maybe-psychotic-but-definitely-whiplashing-talk beforehand, ignoring her water control since they already figured it out when the water healed her from the brink of death.

She was quick and efficient. She took out the invisible daughter of Athena first to avoid being blind sided and left their leader for last. It kinda hurts to watch your subordinates get taken out while you are helplessly watching.

Oh, and Ares takes away what he said about her, Little Moxie was on hell of a warrior. And she _did_ have all those weapons on her. The wicked flaming whip, the black dagger, the _athame_, and sword. What else is she carrying? He was almost dying of curiosity, his weapon-sensors on.

Poseidon was giving off serious Proud Dad vibes. His smirk almost made Athena jump him. _Aaaaand_ not that way! With a _sword_, ughhh. Why is everything sexualized? She wanted to run him through with her spear. There, weirdness averted? Nope, too late. _Fuck it._

They also watched in silence as she cut off a Hellhound's head in a blur of unexpected speed and shot the other in the head with deadly accuracy without even looking.

"Did she just…" the dryad's question hung in the air.

"Yup," a Nereid confirmed.

That was the last thing the Olympians, including Hestia, heard before flashing to the Throne Room, thanks to Zeus's mental summons.

They all appeared looking like themselves, gods not game fanatics. As soon as they were seated, a cacophony of arguments begans. How did so many monsters enter Camp? Was the barrier weakening? Is the demigoddess too powerful to live? Who is the Lightning Thief? What the Tartarus is the Crooked One up to? Is he even _up_ to be _up to_ something? And how do you get around the ban _to_ talk about the previous two questions?

At moments like these, Zeus really misses his Bolt.

They all shut up when a Hellhound's head appeared before Poseidon's throne. Or Fishing seat, depends on who you ask. A very nice conversation stopper. The others looked stunned.

He just chuckled and waved his hand. The head disappeared and a screen appeared, showing Percillia getting officially claimed as Poseidon's.

"_It is Determined,"_ Chiron's voice resonated in the silence. "_Poseidon. God of the Seas. The Earthshaker. The Stormbringer. Father of Horses. All hail, Percillia Jackson, daughter of the Sea God!"_

It really shouldn't have surprised them as it did. She looked exactly like her father, more delicate and feminine and softer, of course- but the black hair, the eyes, her current posture, the volatile temper…

The girl's face was stoney. The green light of the trident contouring her beautiful face, her aristocratic features. She looked every bit the Sea Princess she is.

After that moment of wonder passed, Poseidon snickered and a look of maybe-terrifying mischief shone in his own sea green eyes. _Oh, shit…_.

Seconds later _Cake By The Ocean_ by _DNCE_ was blasting throughout the Sound. And he brought dolphins. Damn… Wow, Athena did not expect that. Cute little sprites were dancing around the giant water cake and the adorable dancing and laughing Sea Princess.

Poseidon was momentarily brought out of his concentration by a stinking box dropping in front of Zeus. The connection was severed but Poseidon still kept the shtick going on in the Camp.

"Hermes?" Zeus rumbled and raised an eyebrow.

"It's for you, Father," Hermes replied neutrally, though he eyed the note stuck to the package with a dagger warily.

Athena sighed loudly and plucked the note. She began reading, and with each word she read her eyebrows reached new heights.

"What does it say, Daughter?" Zeus was honestly curious. What could make his composed daughter react like _that_?

Athena struggled to find something to say, until she finally cleared her throat and read the note-

_To: Zeus_

_The Throne Room, Zeus's Palace, Olympus, 600th floor, Empire State Building, Manhattan, New York_

_Uncle Dearest,_

_I so don't appreciate your 'welcome-to-the-family' gift. Too rowdy and stinky. So I'm giving it back! _

_A little used, sorry. Enjoy!_

_Xoxo, _

_Your Favorite Niece, Perci _

_PS: Please stop cursing mortals, you aren't the ones who have to fight them for you lives. We have to clean up after you. Not fun. That applies to all you listening! Killing them is so much easier and gets the damn point through! _

The audacity! The impudence! The insolence!

Zeus's face was red along with the others. Poseidon choked on his own spit.

The box disappeared, but the battered, bloody and rotting head of the Minotour lifelessly gazed into Zeus's storming eyes.

"_How dare she!_" Zeus bellowed. "_She should be smited for her insolence!_"

"Brother," Poseidon growled menacingly. "You will not harm my daughter."

"Oh, and if her insolence isn't enough, she is also your daughter, Brother," Zeus hissed back. "You broke the Oath."

Poseidon scoffed. "Please, _Brother_," he sneered. "Use another argument."

The Olympians all sighed. Instead of discussing the more important matters at hand, no, they go and fight about each other's sex lives. _Lovely._

"Brothers!" Hestia raised her voice above her baby brothers'. It was slightly reprimanding. "There are more important matters to discuss than your infidelity."

They calmed down, but the glares were still there. But Apollo soon dropped that his baby cousin was a seer. Yup, a seer.

"Little Cuz is a seer alright," Apollo grinned at the agitated looks of his fellow Olympians. "You could call her gift… _True Colors,_ I suppose." He looked mighty proud of the freshly coined name. "She sees the person's inner… or _true_ intentions, forms, feelings. She is also very intuitive," Apollo kept drawling, enjoying the others' varying reactions. "Which explains why she can see your divine form, 'Nysus!" he finished exuberantly.

"How-"

Apollo cut him off harshly, with an insulted look, "I _am_ the god of Prophecy, _Brother_."

"My apologies, _Brother_," Dionysus sneered. "And since we are talking about her," he paused until he had the room's attention. "She found out who the Lightning Thief is."

There was an uproar of '_impossible_' and '_you are lying_' and lots of other insulting things our resident drunkard did _not_ appreciate. He slammed his Thyrsus on the floor, just because he was the youngest he was not going to let them all step over him. He was an Olympian for a reason, and, no, not because Zeus was a corrupt bastard. Though no one is denying he is.

He looked at his older sister with a raised eyebrow. Athena cleared her throat, "How about we discuss this the… mature way?"

Hephaestus snorted. _That'll be a first._

"If my best trackers could not locate my Bolt," Zeus offered in a low voice. The aforementioned gods joined the sneer fest. "What makes you _think_ the _mortal _knows where it is?"

"I said she knows who the _Thief_ is, though she refuses to 'rat them out so soon'," Dionysus faced his father. "Not where it _is, Father_." He waved a casual hand, "Though I bet my money she is on her way to figuring _that_ out."

"What makes you say that, Nephew?" Demeter joined the discussion.

"Well," he smirked and looked at his Uncle. "I don't think it's my place to say."

"Cut to the chase, Dionysus," Aphrodite glared at him. "We all know what she has been doing these past weeks."

"Building herself an Empire, you mean?" Hermes cocked his head to the side, mischievously innocent.

"What do you mean?" Zeus inquired suspiciously.

"You, _seriously_, can not say you don't feel all the fluctuations?" Athena raised an incredulous eyebrow at her father.

"She is training the demigods in more than the typical forms and styles of combat they do at Camp, and is personally working with the younger ones," Ares put in with a bloodthirsty look. "They're calling her the Weapons' Master- Mistress, for the misogyny of the world" -a sneer- "And have you heard about the little Triumvirate she's part of? Or how she has no problem standing against my own children. But rather enjoys it." _Wow, dude… the asshole act is reaching new levels of assery._

"The thriving businesses in Camp are all built on her finances. Her own money," Hermes added.

Athena looked at her rival. She couldn't deny that his spawn was an intellectual and very intelligent. But she would not admit it this soon. Or at all. His pride doesn't need a boost. (_Such a hypocrite, ughh!_)

"She's a threat," Zeus said as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Or," Hera, for the first time spoke, countered. "She is a potential powerful ally against Fa… whatever is stirring. _Especially_, if she is the Prophecy child." Everyone ignored the intentional slip-up.

"What do you care?" Poseidon voiced all their thoughts. And although surprised at her defending a demigod- "_proof of your infidelity"_-, he was very suspicious. "Scratch that. What are you getting out of it?"

She just smiled cooly- there is the Hera they all know. "Her sense of family is intriguing enough for me not to want her dead. Yet."

Before anything else was said, the doors to the throne room opened and two deities walked in and bowed.

Zeus straightened. "Lady Hecate. Lord Morpheus," he acknowledged. "What brings you here?"

"My Lord," Hecate smiled. But it wasn't the happy type. "There are strange Magicks happening at the Camp." The titaness looked sour at the mention of the place. "And it is not from my children."

"Do you know who is performing it?" Athena asked. With He-Who-Won't-Be-Acknowledged rising, anything could be messing with their children's safe haven.

"I think you know who," she said. "Your permission, my King?" She waited for Zeus's nod before she waved her hand.

They all closed their eyes as the scene played behind their eyes.

It was the one and only Percillia. And she looked captivating and so unnaturally ethereal and bewitching. Out of this world, even.

Her velvet-sweet voice captured all their attention. And the power- Oh, her power! It was mouth watering. Her elegant but precise movements, the gentle ring in her voice, echoing in the candle-lit chamber. Her vibrant eyes were glowing, blue and green clashing and swirling, her dark pink lips moving in a fascinating way. Her long black hair with highlights of blue, green and purple swaying from the power she was emitting, as were her robes. Anaklusmos laid on the altar in front of her and the same _athame_ from before in her hand.

It was as if it was the first time they had seen a ritual performed.

They were all startled from the haze when she quipped, "_... That was awfully dramatic._"

Oh, she would have made one Hades of a priestess.

They were all breathing heavily. "What was that?" Demeter demanded. Seriously, what just happened.

"_That_ was a ritual," Hecate raised an eyebrow at the winded Olympians. She would never admit it out loud, but she was also affected as much by it as they were, if not more. The magick the girl produced was _delicious, different _and _dark_. She hadn't felt that old of a magick since the Old Times.

"Not what she meant," Ares growled at the titaness. He most definitely did not like the effect her voice had on him. It was almost as bad as his girlfriend's Charmspeak. And _that_ is saying something.

The elegant titaness did not like his tone. She fought of the sneer with a blank look, "Even though she was using a… _Greek_ book for the ritual of Atlantean origins," she looked at Poseidon, who was very out of it.

He knew his daughter was powerful, but that is reaching new levels. He was proud, no doubt, but he was scared of his brother's paranoia. The danger it poses. "But the way it was performed… the magic used was distinctly _Fae_," Hecate whispered the last word, smirking.

Magic from another world, not the Mist. Another realm they _did not_ dare to dabble or trifle with...

And that opened a whole other door that they weren't about to discuss just now. Bigger problems at hand, like, for example, the ripple followed by the Camp boundary becoming twice as strong, and the power signature of the one and only Percillia Jackson.

Dionysus was frowning. _What are you doing, Nixie?_

Hestia flashed in a column of fire to the Camp Hearth. She was needed there. Zeus wouldn't dare reprimand her for going without permission. Nobody can really.

Hecate also left- not without permission from the whore king- while they were all thinking, she did what she came to do. Morpheus, however, was seriously getting tired of being cussed out every time the demigoddess sleeps. He might deserve it, yet again he governed the Dream Frequencies not make them. He was standing on the side for now, but it was almost time. And the news he had...

The fact that the girl was using Fae magic was unsettling, that her mortal blood hasn't yet burned was even more so. Her being Poseidon's was a great factor, but her mother now didn't seem to be _just _an unknowing or clear-sighted mortal. For how else could a mere demigod- a child of the Big Three or no- wield such power?

Poseidon knew there was something different and _more_ about her the day she found that water pool in the Paris Catacombs. The fact that it opened after being sealed for this long, and that the Sea Princess's Blade chose _and _went to her… it was unnerving if he was being honest with himself.

She was after all his firstborn and only mortal daughter. She is entitled to wield most of his powers. Firsts, ultimately, were cherished for a reason. The early bird gets the worm.

Even through the times he watched over her were not of his choosing. He couldn't see her whenever he wanted, no. The Fates knew what it all meant. And now that tidbit about the Fae…

_What else is his daughter hiding?_

"Is there something you need, Lord Morpheus?" Zeus rumbled from his throne, looking for all the world like he was bored as Tartarus and not boiling with rage and suspicion. Not at all concerned about the letter tucked inside his suit pocket, or that none of the others had even noticed it pinned there right in between the Minotaur's hollowed and rotting eyes. Or his retrieving it.

"Majesty," Morpheus bowed to him. He flicked his hand and the minor god stood. The Olympians all refocused on the conversation. "There's been disturbances in Dream Frequencies. The Oneroi"-deities of dreams and Morpheus' brethren- "and myself have been keeping the brunt of it at bay. But it began gaining a foothold recently…"-his membranous wings rustled and his face soured- "Today, however, it seemed more eager and insistent. And the damage was near devastating."

Silence. Dreams...the one thing they all knew not to tamper with. Not without the Council's absolute consent. The importance of Dreams to mortals and immortals alike…

This was an act of provocation, an outright insult. And-

"Why am I only now hearing of this?" Zeus was the absolute personification of the calm before the storm. The others- wary but playing every possible scenario in their minds. No one spoke, and that was enough to know how much shit was about to hit the fan. Lots and lots and lots of it.

The weather wasn't all that pretty anymore, and many are canceling any plans of enjoying the summer weather this weekend.

"Your Majesty banned anyone from mentioning _Him_," Morpheus was not feeling so good right now, though his face showed none of it as he kept his head down. "Bu-"

"Then why are you here, Morpheus," Zeus knew he was being unreasonable with his anger. But if it _was_ his father…

"Because, My Lord," Morpheus swallowed. Gods did not need to breathe oxygen, but aether they did. And it was getting harder and harder to breathe. "His Crookedness"-all of them stiffened and frowned, though it was only whispered- "took over a specific Frequency and was preparing to use it tonight."

"How long has this been going on, Morpheus?" It was Poseidon this time. He wasn't happy and the bad feeling in his gut was not helping. And his face showed that he wasn't particularly in a forgiving mood.

"A while, Lord," his head bowed to Poseidon. And the blood in his veins were not moving as they should. He added, "It was scarce and unnoticeable at first"- a grunt- "a small prodding here and there, but it was taken care of. Recently, it became more insistent and it started expanding from just mortals to-to the half-bloods."

Oh, Morpheus… Poor, poor you. "You let it escalate without reporting the threat. A threat against our children," Demeter was furious and it became colder in the throne room.

If the gods agreed on anything, it was about how territorial they are. _Their_ children, _their own _children were not something they gambled with- no matter what they portrayed. And if the Dreams were being tampered with… by him-

"Why are you really here, Lord Morpheus?" Athena asked, pinning him with her steely, calculating glare. "You could have come tomorrow. Everybody knows the '_raddest_' parties thrown after the game."

"What happened in the game helped confirm my suspicions, Lady." Please Athena, you please Zeus. "I thought you might want to witness what His-"

"Well, at least you got one thought right," Apollo drawled from his throne, the small smile was anything but friendly.

The others were all stone faced.

"My Lords and Ladies," Morpheus raised his head. "If you could call back Lady Hestia?"

"Why," Aphrodite purred. "Afraid the big, bad gods will hurt you?" Oh, Aphrodite was in one of those moods then… Shit.

"No," he swallowed as Aphrodite looked him up and down. "The Lady of the Hearth now has her."

Poseidon snarled and narrowed his eyes, "Spit it out already, Morpheus."

"His Crookedness wants to talk to your daughter, Lord." If there was one thing worse than a furious Zeus, it was a furious Poseidon. And his temper was close to snapping its leash. The dread he's feeling getting worse and worse. "Bad. He's been trying for a whi-"

"How bad exactly?" Zeus flashed his teeth. _Pretty smile… _He summoned his sister mentally and was filling her in.

"It must be bad enough if he came here _himself _to warn you, Father," Hermes- ever the mischievous god- was grinning. "Bad enough he can't hide it- or behind it- anymore." Ooh, a dangerous line Hermes…

Before anyone else can pitch in, Hestia fired in (_in her not eight year-old form_) with the one and only… _Percillia Jackson._

**Hello, hello... Hiya. I'm not dead, unfortuneatly. I'm sorry for the wait. I really am. But as promised...**

**Summary:** It's an Olympus POV for Capture the Flag. And their reactions. Especially at the new developments by our dearest Perci. They also want to see her. And she is hidden from scrying and mind searching. Thet are intrigued by her and her influence on their children- which they are very possessive and territorial about. (Cabin 11 most _certainly_ agrees.) They see her power both physical and magic. Signs of the Crooked One rising keep staring them in the face, but Zeus and the Council are excellent at Dodgeball. Hecate comes in with news of Perci literally using out of the magick- with a ck to show how ancient and hallowed it is. Morpheus is then under the Council's ire for not reporting a threat- yes, Zeus, it's not you're fault no one can talk bout him, and you definetly didn't make the ban. Dreamland- hehe- is being taken by our favorite Crazy Farmer bit by bit. And the Dream Frequencies- as mentioned above- are not to be trifled with~

**I was locked ou of the email I use to write this on. Got my password finally reset a couple days ago. **

**I know I promised the quest this chapter, but this is very important to further the plot. Perci isn't all knowing (unfortuneately). So this Pov** **(**Olympus**) is important, might appear every now and then.**

**This as short as I managed, hope it's okay.**

**I also hope the ****_entire_**** chapter I wrote is posted, not like last time. I fixed last time though, so...**

**Please, please, please Review. I need ideas and motivation.**

**-3anona, out!**


	15. Where All Your Darkest Fears Are Gonna-

**Disclaimer: The title's from Au/Ra's Panic Room.**

CHAPTER 14: Where All Your Darkest Fears Are Gonna Come For You

Olympus

The Olympians were all lost in thought or had half a mind to do that. The other half was with their domains.

They all had a lot to think about.

The group at the Hearth was working on getting an invitation into their mysterious demigoddess's mind. Morpheus was a fool. He really was.

While they were working, all of them thought back to when Percillia appeared to this moment. After all, it was too much to process at the time. And it all needed full processing and comprehension. If a war really was on their doorstep then it is better to know all their assets and allies.

_Hestia appeared with the focus of their conversation. She ignored them all and sat with Percillia cradled to her chest protectively. If that wasn't enough, the cold looks she was sending to any even-slightly-hostile individuals was saying it all: _don't fuck with her.

"_She's tinier than I expected," Ares, oh-so-gracefully, broke the ice. But, yeah, she was. "She looks like a ten year old."_

"_She's twelve," Artemis answered, off-handedly. Well… Ares gave her a look that said _does-it-look-like-I-fucking-care? _Artemis just flipped him off._

"_Is it necessary," Poseidon grated. He was fucking terrified for his daughter. Anger is better to showcase than fear in this den at the moment. When they looked at him questionably, he corrected, "Her being here."_

_Whatever banter had started immediately sank. It was heavy- their current situation. Denial was in high demand tonight._

"_I'm afraid so, my Lord," Morpheus muttered low. Anything but Poseidon's wrath, thank you very much. "Her mind is highly protected. It is near impossible to get in."_

"_Then, pray tell… how are we going to catch the cookie monster with his hand in the cookie jar?" Apollo drawled nastily. Morpheus just got to it. "Don't fuck up. Anymore."_

_He was fucking pissed. He couldn't see what the fuck was going to happen. His baby cousin was now his ward, under his protection- thanks to her _Seeing_\- and he damn well hated the idea of his grandfather near her. Because looking back, quite literally in time, there were so many blank spots were she would end afterwards somehow or way injured, physically and mentally, was seriously angering_

_Oh, he knew all about his lil cuz's wowing heritage. He was just waiting for the cat to- quite literally- come out the bag. If all that's happening wasn't rocking enough…. Oh, he was going to enjoy it. He doesn't think even his Uncle knows. Suspects? Hades, yeah. Poseidon- no matter what Athena rants- was sharper than what they all expected and more. But he's the type to lie low and not get attention to himself. He knows what he's capable of and doing. Apollo has a great amount of respect for his Uncle._

_He felt overprotective of her. And, well, Apollo was never one to ignore his instincts. And contrary to popular belief, he wasn't one of the nice gods- if you could call any of them nice. He was a cruel god and- boy!- did he know it. They just forgot a bit. So, yes, he can be a possessive ass. But so could all of them._

_Apollo was used to knowing what was happening, what's going to happen- this was taking a toll on him. His twin knew, she was sending him bored-but-concerned-if-you-squint looks. He smiled tightly. Also, despite popular belief and display they were quite close. _

_Still- the temperature was just getting hotter and more humid._

_Morpheus was doing his dream mojo, or whatever. A hazy screen that looked like murky, spilled milk was taking shape. His hand was on Percillia's closed eyes and forehead. She really was tiny, but heartbreakingly beautiful. Even now. And she looked so innocent, so small in that oversized sweater and vulnerable that most, if not all of them, wanted to rip the minor god's unworthy hand off of her._

_Said god was looking haggard and very concentrated. Percillia was vibrating wildly in Hestia's hold. And was snarling ferally in her sleep. (He knew about her sleeping problem. He wished to know why. She took an abnormally strong sleeping elixir. But anyway, he knew it would take a shitton of force to wake her up.) Hestia was glaring daggers at Morpheus. It was really a shock- her hostile and overprotective behavior. But, weirdly, not unwelcome._

_Poseidon slammed his Trident- the marble cracked and and little tremors were felt. His appearance changed. He grew younger, more defined and deadly, handsome and scary. His harmless Tommy Bahama's were melding into armor. And if his daughter's snarl was feral, his was rabid. He was shaking- barely restrained._

"_What are you doing to my daughter," He didn't ask, he demanded, each word came out low and biting. Morpheus, god or no, was barely holding a shudder of terror. _

_Poseidon reveled in the shock on his fellow Olympians' faces. It seemed they forgot just what the Hell he was capable off. He would've laughed, if he wasn't blinded with rage. He wasn't this angry since World War Two. When it comes to his babies it's a big fucking red line. And his dear Princess was his first mortal daughter, his true Sea Princess- the Sea itself fucking chose her. He didn't give a single fuck who the Hell Morpheus was, what the Hell the stakes were, if his daughter didn't want to be touched she won't be._

_Morpheus was thrown back, and much to the Sea god's surprise, not by him. Two brilliant, golden arrows were lodged in his wings. Vines erupted, trapping the struggling god to marble column beside the door. Dionysus and Apollo were furious. Hey, it's their fucking baby cousion._

_Zeus didn't move an inch, neither did Hera, nor Demeter. They were probably enjoying the violence way too much. They were lounging lazily on their thrones, watching the minor god struggle. They all had a sense of sick satisfaction at the pain the god was in. Why? No idea, but they'd bet their gold on Percillia. This weird attachment was a bit frightening, but they were a bit deep to care. How dare he hurt her? _

_Ares was grinning like the cat who caught and slaughtered the canary. The little canary was still struggling. To be honest, the canary basically asked for it. Tsk, tsk, tsk, keeping important information from them? All his fault._

_Oddly, Aphrodite and Artemis were both grinning at each other, a bloodthirsty grin. They didn't care why they cared _so _much, _so godsdamned _fast, for the tiniest creature in the room. They did. End of story. If Immortality taught them something, it was that everything happened for a reason. _

_Hermes and Hephaestus were sitting stock still. Athena, were confused at why they wanted to hurt Morpheus. That weird and fierce protective instinct flared when their little cousin visibly rejected the other god's touch and mind invasion. Huh. _

_But they all knew one thing well. They knew power. And the girl was oozing it. Even asleep- especially while she was asleep. She kicked a god out of her head- and sucked on his energy to counter his advances, that much was obvious to them. He didn't even realise she was doing it! She really was something else. _

_Morpheus was now screaming in pain- no, that was agony. Gods were known for their pride, they'd never show their weakness. And whatever the Hades was happening to him it wasn't good. The satisfaction was beginning to mix with apprehension._

_Morpheus felt like he was burning from the inside out. It was pain like nothing he ever knew in his long, immortal life. He never did have his blood boil in his veins. Never had it squeezing out of his systems like that. Never did it leave his body forcefully. His blood slithered out of his orifices like serpents, blistering golden serpents tightening like ropes around him. His ichor burned through the vines, it melted the solar arrows on his sensitive wings. His mind wasn't safe from the attack either. _Fuck_._

_Through all their centuries, the Olympians never saw this ferociousness, this brutal, and cruel treatment. Except once. And it was the first and last time they ever saw or messed with the Fae again. Or mentioned them at all. The Algea were born then and there. The daimones- spirits- of pain and suffering. Even Eris herself- the goddess of Strife and Discord- was a little unsettled by her offspring. _

_So it probably shouldn't surprise them that they arrived. They looked as stunning as ever. Terrifyingly beautiful. No, not beautiful, alluring, bewitching, magnificent. Yeah, that. Beautiful was too nice a word. And the three were now standing around and cooing at the tortured good. _

_Zeus hated them. "What is your purpose here, Algea?" He rumbled. Boy, was he pissed. He wanted to lie down after the game, but no. He can't. The day was dragging on too long for his liking, and shit just kept coming._

_The three Pains in his ass turned around and smiled, showing their shark-like teeth, "Nuh-ting, my Lord," the leader- Lupe answered. She was the dark one. Dark skin, hair, eyes and clothing. Her voice like a soft caress of a lover, right before a knife finds its way to their heart. Her voice was exotic, heavy with a Mediterranean accent._

"_We were just called here," Akhos delicately shrugged. She was the pale one, in coloring. Silver hair, grayish-white eyes, white skin. Her voice was like the warmth during a snowstorm, right before frostbite claims your life._

"_Our ancestors," the last one said. Ania. She had dark, scarlett hair, blood-red eyes, freckles covered every visible inch of her. She was the quiet one, if a bit more animalistic. She turned and caressed the whimpering god's cheek, smearing the ichor. "So much pain," she breathed sweetly. "Beautiful."_

_See, those three believed that the Fae were their _ancestors _since thanks to them they exist. It was very disconcerting. They didn't bow, didn't follow many of the Olympian laws. Not much could be done about them. They lived off pain, reveled in it, and inflicted it._

"_The Fae?" Aphrodite asked. She didn't like them- those Pains in the ass. They gave her a run for her money, every now and then. She didn't appreciate that. "What do they have to do with him?" Her voice was silky and low._

"_You do not know?" Lupe questioned with a small smile, her voice like dark chocolate. When they only glared, she sighed. That drunken smile still in place, "This is retaliation. For whatever pain was inflicted, it shall be returned seven-fold," she shivered as Morpheus gave a particularly bone-rattling wail._

_The Olympians' faces fell, confusion and realization and -again- denial warring as they looked anywhere but the Hearth. They focused on the Pains a lot more unsettled._

"_You know the best part?" Akhos hummed as she slathered the liquid gold on Morpheus's wings. She didn't even flinch from the solar temperature that should be melting her smooth, pale hand._

"_Do I want to know?" Poseidon sounded so defeated. He looked a bit more grounded. His rage now stored to be used some other time. He looked at his shivering daughter. As soon as Morpheus began screaming, Hestia took her into her Hearth- it won't hurt who she doesn't want to hurt. If something could elicit such pain from a god, what chance does a tiny mortal stand? (Yeah, it's as if they forgot her performance. She was sleeping, therefore vulnerable, they all silently agreed.) Well, kudos to them. _

"_She doesn't even know she's doing it!" Akhos gushed, plucking the unconscious god's wings. It seemed to be too much to bare. None of them were blaming him. If the Algea were here, then fuck it and congratulations for holding on that long. "She's protecting herself when she's most vulnerable. Asleep- she doesn't do it much from what we've seen, it seems. She is such a sweet little thing that she doesn't want to hurt anyone, accidentally," she looked at the sleeping girl in adoration. "But when her body felt pain, it retaliated. She can't help it. Not unconscious, she can't. The defense mechanism. Seven-fold. Pain," she was breathing hard, her eyes rolled back, kneeling over Morpheus. Akhos licked the ichor dripping down his chin._

_Her sister took over. "It is law. Eye for eye. Seven-fold. Seven-pointed star. Septagram. Seven courts. Seven days of week. Seven is powerful number in Faerie. She is hurt. Violated when weak and vulnerable. Basic instincts take over. Hurt offender. Seek retribution. It is the law of the Seelies. Lucky you, Siren goes with Seelie court," Lupe smiled, balefully. Her slow, accented, halting words washing over them. "See, there is three divisions for Fae. Seelie, Unseelie and Exilee. Three. Triquetra. Three divisions. Death-birth-rebirth… Eternity. Unseelies take retribution seven-fold… thrice. She is merciful, Siren is. Controls it when conscious. But her pain ..." She looked at Percillia with devotion and veneration, as she licked the ichor of her palms._

_That is more information than they've gathered in millenia. Their knowledge was very little. It was something that drove Athena crazy. She was soaking it all like a sponge._

_At moments like these, the Olympians really and truly resented Zeus. His laws that prohibit talk about anything stronger and scarier than his Maje-fucking-sty. They know nothing of foes who might or might not attack them. Woefully unprepared, that's what they all are. And majorly fucked._

"_Is there something you are trying to say?" Zeus ground out. All the sick pleasure they were reveling in was sickening. He wanted to get rid of them. And the girl- she was a godsdamned ticking bomb._

"_Oh, don't be dense, Father," Artemis exploded. Seriously, could he get any more arrogant? The asshole! "The girl is part Fae. The part of her that was supposed to be human never was human to begin with. And she is well and truly versed in the ways and traditions and laws of the Fae. And we are now running around like headless chickens! Worse, even!"_

"_True," Ania hummed in the silence that followed. "She is our ward. Lady Percillia and her Mother are. Her mama's a big girl now. We're more focused on the little one. Our ancestors trust us with their overseeing," she hummed happily, as if it was a great honor that conniving, cruel beings _trust _them. They probably saw it as that._

_Zeus turned accusing eyes to his brother, "What have you done? A Fae, brother?"_

"_Oh, no, no, your Majesty," Akhos shook her head frantically. "You misunderstand. Lady Sally's grandparents were the Changelings. Her parents were both only half-fae, though they were no lesser fae. They were... royalty, though only their children knew it. They were unaware. Lady Sally's parents knew, had to, when they got bonded. Their parents were of rival courts. Courtiers tried to break it up. But they were too late, their deaths were a waste. A girl of rivaling courts was born. Oh, the power she had. She hates it though. Keeps it bound." She then smirked at Poseidon, "You wouldn't have known, Lord of the Seas… if it bit you in the ass," she giggled. And turned to look at the tiny power well. She was beautiful and skilled and powerful and talented. She sighed._

_They mulled over the shocking revelations. Poseidon was seriously considering many life choices. No wonder she gave him a daughter. She had to have had some strong blood in her veins. And apparently she does. He always marveled at her blinding beauty and unnatural grace. Oh, he knows about her profession, it also assured him that she was strong enough to care for a son of his. Well, daughter. He knew from the moment he met her he was breaking the oath. Turns out mercenary was a way to vent her pent-up power. _

"_Wait," Athena brought him back to the present. "When you said Percillia's grandparents were only half-fae…," she trailed off when she saw their shark grins. "Half what else?" She demanded, turning her infamous glare on them._

"_Ooh, don't be nasty about it," Akhos shook her head, her pale eyes shining with malice. "You are smart… figure it out."_

_Hermes was having a major _Oh, fuck! _moment. And so was Aphrodite. Because well… they were so fucked. They made eye contact and the desperate oh-I'm-fucked. They tried avoiding looking at Percillia's peacefully sleeping form, 'cause, well, it all makes fucking sense now. Shit._

"_I think it's obvious to point out that they were demigods as well?" Hephaestus grunted. Too much drama and dealing with his family for one day. As much as he is grateful for his cousin for what she's doing with and for his children, he'd rather be in a forge._

_Aphrodite glared at her husband. _Now you speak up! _She seems panicked. Oh, well, not his problem. Her boyfriend maybe. Bitch._

"_You've been oddly silent since her arrival, Son," Zeus drawled. He could feel the underlying panic in Hermes' stoic demeanor when his ugly son said demigods. He glared._

"_Hmm?" Hermes was really focused on something._

"_Where's your Silver-tongue, Brother?" Dionysus mocked him. Someone's not getting their happy juice, and his only supplier was virtually a captive after all this. "Little Kitten stole it?" And as if on cue, Nixie purred as Hestia rubbed their cheeks and ran her fingers through her hair. The gesture was purely animal, the girl always did seem a little wild._

_That little glimpse at his apparently great-granddaughter and the fragile control he had slipped away and his form flickered._

_The Algea were now forgotten, they left with a bit of discord behind. Their mother would be proud._

_Morpheus was already more than punished for his omission. Apollo had called someone to take him to their Infirmary. Epione- a goddess of healing and soothing and also his daughter-in-law. If Morpheus needed anything now it was her gentleness. Hades, he felt sorry for the god. His baby cousin doesn't know her own power. Oh, no, that was wrong. She is very aware of it just not how to control it when she wasn't conscious. She only needs practice on control. Her instincts are too honed and her soul didn't recognize Morpheus. Or she recognized something she didn't like. He already knew it was hard getting in, pushing it was worse. And maybe he knew it too… _

_Back to the matter at hand-_

_Hermes flashed out, immediately. Aphrodite gave a pained look at Percillia and followed suit. Athena snarled. _

_Zeus was angry, but mostly confused, so obviously he let anger reign. "Before you start ranting, Brother," Demeter's words froze him. "They both had a little Roman situation to take care of."_

_Hera seemed a bit too happy with the revelation._

_They all turned to the impossible incarnate. Fae, Greek _and _Roman. Well, they all definitely know they're fucked if she ever goes against them. Which makes her a threat. One Hades of a threat. After the Civil War…. A repeat of that won't be nice at all. And due to what Fae heritage she has- she is an unknown variable in this fucked up equation. Oh, who are they kidding she fucked up their equation the moment she slaughtered the Furies. Maybe even before that. _

_But… they aren't blind to not see the prosperity in the Camp. She _is _better for their children. And the opportunity of using her for their side against Kronos. Ah, pardon… the unidentified threat._

_Decisions, decisions…_

"_I fucking dare you," Poseidon drawled from his throne. His Trident was not in sight. He seemed calm. A bit too calm. Not good. "Little Brother."_

"_Excuse me?" Zeus rumbled. Okay, Poseidon was asking for it. Zeus was sitting all alone… quietly contemplating his immortal life…. Ah, who's he kidding? No one that's who. He was quit literally plotting his brother's daughter's murder. And pros and cons of said murder. Did it promote to assassination because according to his dear brother she is Under the Sea royalty, and according to the Pains in the ass she is Fae royalty? Also with the very subtle threat that they will unleash unimaginable pain if she's harmed too much to get her own retribution._

_The Throne Room doors opened, cutting the glare-off between the two brothers. Hermes and Aphrodite seemed to have taken care of their not-at-fucking-all-small problem and sat back in their thrones. They nodded to the King, avoiding the Hearth. _

_Mnemosyne walked in. Apollo nodded to the mother of his Muses with a small grin. She grinned back. She then walked over the ichor stain like it wasn't even there. She raised an eyebrow at the little demigoddess nestled in Hestia's arm protectively._

_She stood in front of the Hearth and curtsied, "Majesties." Her presence was filled with the same nostalgic vibes. Goddess of Memory and all. Or is the correct word Titaness? She turned to Hestia, "You called darlin'?"_

_Hestia smiled at her perky aunt. But before she could answer, Mnemosyne said, "Ah. No worries, hun. I'll see what little ole me can do." Mind communication. Mnemosyne finds it easier with her memory-reading. Others felt uncomfortable with it, but her dear niece opened her mind to her. Better than talking and taking up too much precious time. _

_Her niece walked out the Hearth. It was a bit of a surprise to see her in an older form, she always preferred a younger, less threatening one. Oh, well. One look in her eyes and she had the entire night's events. "Oh, my," she muttered and looked warily at her too-adorable-to-be-the-reason-for-the-seared-blood-stain-in-marble-grand-niece. "Looks seriously can be deceiving here."_

_Poseidon was looking warily at his aunt. He actually liked her and didn't want his daughter's wrath on her. She was looking intently at Percillia, "Don't worry, Donny. I know what I'm doin'."_

_Poseidon pursed his lips, even to gods she was a bit unnerving. No one likes to be read as an open book. And he _absolutely _hated the name Donny. Blech. "What _are _you doing?"_

_She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and drawled, "Well, obviously I'm tryna find a way to get into her pretty little head without havin' my insides boiled on me." Her southern accent charmed the Hades out of them. She was old when they were wee little kids. And thanks to her taking their side during the Titanomachy, she hasn't lost any of their respect. _

_She kept at examining the little person in her niece's arms. The little person who could very well- no scratch that. The little person who could and would change tides in the upcoming war. Oh, she damn well knew her baby brother was up and at it, the little old fucker._

_Mnemosyne sighed, "Imma need your help, Donny." She looked at Poseidon who barely held himself from holding his daughter and Misting to the darkest depths of his kingdom to protect her from their family's suspicious and wary eyes. _

_He would've done it. He really would- if he hadn't known that his little Princess would tear him a new one. Impulsiveness was another flaw he shared with his children despite his near infinite patience. But they were all restless- it was hard to know what to expect with him and his brood. "Of course, _Theía_." _

_Mnemosyne looked at her nephew. He always had a strong sense of family, and always called her aunt. He looked younger than usual, early-to-mid-thirties or so. "Now I want you both"- she pointed at Hestia and Poseidon- "to make her feel comfortable enough- open. I'll try to get a message through to her."_

"_But she's asleep," Athena protested. "She's not conscious enough or aware to either hear the message or not attack you."_

"_I think, Sweetheart," Mnemosyne started. "That she is always aware of her surroundings. Even unconscious," she murmured softly. She was apprehensive. "You know that, you just won't admit it." _

_Athena looked like she swallowed a particularly sour lemon. She hated not knowing. It appeared to happen a lot when it came to her rival's daughter._

_Poseidon looked at his sister, pleading. She looked at him hard, then sighed. She'd never keep a child from their parent. Poseidon immediately held her close to his chest. He smiled when she purred and snuggled into him._

_The other gods looked away uncomfortable. Maybe a little jealous. Okay, alot. Zeus had half a mind to just blast her and get it over with. But he thought better of it. _

_He looked at the others in his council. They were either scrutinizing what was happening at the Hearth or had their focus elsewhere. Literally. They had jobs to do, domains to look after, children to glimpse and check up on, pretending to not know that he pretended to not know what they were doing. Fuck the Ancient Laws…. A scoff, yeah, right._

_His wife was looking to the side, planning something. Well, fuck him…_

_Nonetheless, he took everyone's distraction to pull out the letter that was wedged in the demolished Minotaur's mouth. He had blasted the thing. Insolent girl…. He should have just blasted her when he had the chance on Half-Blood Hill, but doing that would definitely dishonor his daughter's sacrifice… Well, fuck. Yes, he did care. The letter-_

Hello Uncle,

I'm sorry for the inconvenience of this letter, but I couldn't take the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. You would not have been reading this if you weren't fully in control of all your actions.

You and I and the entirety of Olympus, whether or not they and _you _admit it, know that grandfather is rising. I hope you know that playing ostriches won't be solving anything- and neither will denial. So please, be patient and read the rest of this letter. (_honestly, at this point? His beard was crackling._)

Kronos has found ways to implement moles in your court without their knowledge or consent. Lord Ares (_what the actual fuck?!_), for one, has been under his influence for quite a while now. I tried to help him as best as I could. I know you've noticed something- you aren't King just for your good looks and libido (_uhhh...thanks?_). I also know that you are monitoring tonight's game. I hope that you find whatever proof or validation you are still looking for or denying its existence.

Now, as a sign of good faith, I have a particular list that might interest you.

For the past years, the supernatural world has heard whisperings of a dark stirring. I explored these not-rumors. And for the past year, I have been hunting for any of grandfather's associates- minions- mortal or otherwise, who have and still are aiding him. And I've made a list that could, if you are still doubting, prove war is imminent.

-See list on the back-( _okay, seriously, what the actual fuck…. The list was long. Too long. How long has his father been working and right under his nose?!_)

Also, I know how to find your Bolt. I know where it is, virtually. (_The little bitch!_) It's complicated. But I need to be offered/assigned an official quest- to avoid all godly interference. According to the Ancient Laws, that is.

I hope that we could work together without all the unnecessary you think an alliance might be possible? I am, so far, the only one who knows or suspect and has the ability to hunt them down? It's up to you anyway, if you want more information.

After all, unless my cousins are miraculously resurrected or freed, I am the only one who determines whether Olympus is preserved or razed….

Sincerely,

Your niece, Percillia R. Jackson

PS: If you're wondering why I sent this to you…. You're the godsdamned king, and you've been playing ostrich for way too long. You need a way to save your face when your subjects come knocking for answers. You're my Uncle, and I will help you in any way I could. You tried to kill me once with the Minotaur- I'm not an idiot, fuck you very much. I gave you a second chance. Don't fuck it up.

PPS: Please send a reply as soon as possible.

_Zeus took a deep breath. He decided to think it through before exploding like last time and let his pride get out of hand. He _loathed _to admit that she was right. He was almost grateful for the distraction she brought with her fucked up heritage and his still unexplained protectiveness towards her. It was still debatable though, he wanted to incinerate her, but if anyone did it his blood boiled. Fucking shit. He still didn't want to talk about his father. _

_But with this paper he might actually start doing something. He chuckled lowly and darkly to himself. How many opportunities will she keep giving them? For how long have they been under this child's mercy? And like she said oh-so-gracefully and matter-of-fact she is the one who determines whether or not his realm is destroyed._

_He had thinking to do. And a message to think of the wording for. He didn't want to sound desperate. But if the girl managed to pass the Atlantic__unharmed, and his father was investing there…. Then he sorely needed her._

_Strategically, the girl was already working on their children, getting them prepared for the upcoming shit. She was training them physically and mentally already. She was doing for them what they should have done for their children. The demigod death-rate was an embarrassment to them. _

_But… if he gave her the leeway she needed…. He could work with his _beloved _niece. After all, weren't they at the end of the day family?_

**Hello there. Whatcha think? I don't know why the Muses hate me. I tried to put in a good word for their mother. Hope that works!**

**I've only done it once, but I'm seriously getting tired of doing these little after-chapter summaries. Please tell me if they are useful.**

**Summary: **Percillia is on Olympus. Morpheus attempts to venture into her mind to get the dream out of it instead of using the damn frequencies he fucking rules. Assleep-Perci tears hima new one, or tears him. The Algea appear, spoiling Perci's shocking heritage. They enjoy the torture happenning to Morpheus. Shocking feelings creep up to them. Why re they protective of the mortal. Is she even mortal or an immortal? What was so damn important that Morpheus quite literally risked his existence to show? Could it be the final proof to get Zeus's head out of his ass and start preparing for a war Kronos's been prepping for for a long while now? Will he be too late? And that letter? Can Zeus find it in him to compromise? To gag his pride and ask for help?

**So next chapter could go either way- Perci POV or Olympus POV. Which would you prefer? Do you want anything in particular? The dream is important, the Perci-Kronos one- lots of revelations. **

**Also, I've been a horrible person. I forgot to thank you for the reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Please more, I want my motivation and inspiration, aka reviews.**

**-3anona, out!**


	16. And I'd Be The Only One To Blame

**Disclaimer: The Pistol Annies' I Feel a Sin Comin' On for today's title.**

CHAPTER 15: And I'd Be The Only One To Blame

_Hallo, meine Süßen_….

Or something like that. It's been a while since I've been to Germany.

Yes, yes, I know. _What the Hell? _Trust me I haven't a clue. You know- 'cause I was sleeping. Long Night. _Real _long night.

Last I remember, Baby Jay tackled me out of the dreamscape. _Little Roman bish_. Man if it's easy to get a rise out of them, all the Romans, then I'll probably consider a visit…. On second thought- _Nah!_ Too many sticks up the ass to pick out.

Right- back on course. I was still on Olympus, the only thing I knew. And the fact that important shit went down - that I _did not_ hear, fuck you very much. Oh, and the regret of gobbling the sleeping tonic with half the bottle of Dio's wine that was left after the game's after-bonfire-aka-sneaking-away-and-getting-shit-faced.

I know, not good. But I was desperate for a couple hours of sleep before da- eh, sperm donor's quest. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I won't be getting much sleep, if at all. I'd be worried too much for my quest mates.

Now, thanks to Annabeth's stuffing me with all the useless rules that'll never be used, I know fairly enough. Since Luke was the last quester in a couple years, it's a touchy subject. I hate crushes. Alot. And I'm often thankful for my stone cold heart…

At the moment I was standing in a grassy plain of nothing. Wait a sec, a giant oak tree with a carved, grey boulder were behind me. The place where I let people telepathically talk to me. A wide empty place where you can see nothing, hear nothing, and gain absolutely fucking nothing from my pretty head. Never had a corporeal place for it.

Oh, and it seems someone wants to talk to me. I could feel sperm donor and Tía easing the person in.

_Huh, something bad must've happened._ I was proven right when a powerful yet wary presence was taking form. Now, as a knee reflex, I am going to sicc a violent _something_ to chase it out. A dark shadow was already forming beside me on the boulder.

"_I come in peace, lil one,_" a sweet voice with a southern lilt placated. I stopped the shadow for a moment. Instincts told me the being _was_\- in fact- coming in peace, mostly.

"Go on," I murmured. Just 'cause my instincts weren't haywire with red flags didn't mean it was going to be easy. If anyone was watching (_I'm sure the Olympian council was_), I didn't want any of them thinking it was an easy-breezy task to get in. _If only I knew… _

I felt a wave of comfort and _love_. Ah, so that's what Pops and Tía were there for. Though I'm not gonna lie, the _love_ part surprised me. _Whatever._ I resisted the urge to purr like a goddamn cat.

Speaking of cats, Marlowe was going ballistic back at camp. My tattoo was buzzing. We were both connected, blood-bonded. I closed my eyes and called her. I was surprised to actually feel her licking my face. _Didn't think it would work, ha!_

I opened my eyes just in time to put a finger to my lips. She growled low but said nothing. _Sorry, but someone's here. Behave._ She understood me but looked offended at my silent words.

"_What was that, Percillia?_" the same voice asked even more hesitantly. Dad and Hestia seemed alarmed too.

"Nothing to worry you, ma'am," I drawled. "Whatcha tryna do?" I asked, a bit more preppy.

"_Just talk,_" the voice assured, as if talking to a cornered animal. _Honey, I'd be more worried for myself if I was you._

"Why?" I was having too much fun.

"_I'm sure you're aware you're on Olympus?_" she questioned. I hummed the affirmative. "_We need something only you seem to have at the moment. The Council deems it important information._"

"Why?"

I could hear her getting frustrated. I rolled my eyes, _immortals. They have all the time in the world but no patience._ I was petting a calm Marlowe. She was a beautiful sight, even as a _katze_. She was obviously amused. "_It is vital information that is needed. The Council demands-_"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk," I stopped her. "The Council demands shit from me." Cue my dramatic pause, "They can nicely ask."

I could hear the Titaness- _at least I figured out her species. Curious though, who it could be. Titans and Olympians don't exactly mix_\- clear her throat. "_You're lucky only I can hear you, girl. Your insolence would've gotten you killed_," she seemed peeved. _Oh, well._

"Obviously, this 'vital info' you need isn't as vital," I said sweetly. I felt like a godsdamn villain, sitting on my stone throne and petting my black cat…. _Hehe._ "You could play nice or I can wake up, get the Hell out of there. And keep the info to myself."

"_You can't wake up_," she sounded a bit confident. "_The sleeping elixir and alcohol you drowned yourself in won't let you._"

"You forget children of Poseidon don't drown," I replied a bit nastily. I could burn it all up, if I want, from my system. My body's already doing it double the average demigod metabolism. _It takes a lot to get me drunk._ I tugged on dad's calming wave, making a point. "Try me."

"_You don't understand! You literally have the only proof my brother's on the move._" A sister of Kronos? Not G-ma, I'd know. Nostalgia- she was flaring her aura to scare me to submission, bitch. Mnemosyne then. "_Zeus refuses to believe what is in front of him,_" she was almost pleading. Damn, she must be very apprehensive of her brother.

"So that's why someone was poking in my head earlier?" I was genuinely curious. "That wasn't very comfortable. I'm sure you know Gramps isn't one of the easiest people to be around. And neither is being anywhere near Tartarus. The intruder made it worse," I was snapping furious. If they wanted something, they could have just asked like this nice lady I'm giving a hard time.

"_You know 'bout that?_" She sounded as if she didn't want the answer. "_Morpheus was trying to get the dream from your head-_"

"You do know he could've just plucked the dream from the Dream Frequencies, right? He had no business messing around in my head," I cut her sharply. I felt her surprise. Come on people, give me _some _credit. I know shit. And I'm also close to five-year-old Nathan Sleepwalker, son of Morpheus. He knows the basics his father showed him once upon a dream. I love the little one. Off topic. "And especially had no business doing it while he _reeked_ of your brother," I snarled. Hestia and sperm donor were trying to calm me down. Not working.

A surprised- almost scandalized- gasp. "_You know that is a very serious accusation. You could be just saving your face, especially after what you've done to him,_" she snapped back.

"Oh? And what was that?" I was dripping sarcasm.

"_You reduced a god to a whimpering, broken mess! You turned his insides on him! Seven-fold! You returned the pain he caused ya Seven-fold!_" She was bellowing too loud in my head.

I pushed my panic to the side, and stomped on it- _they know, they know, oh, fuck they know_\- and crushed it to nothing. _So what if they know, all the more reason for them to not fuck with me_. "He deserved it then," my voice was low and void. _Fake it till you make it._ "Grandfather's appearance in my dream was weakening enough, if Morpheus just _happened _to be looking in my head for the dream then you've got to know that that is bullshit. He has all dreams at his fingertips. He had _absolutely… no reason_ to look inside my head. Unless there is an ulterior motive." I took a deep calming breath. _I wouldn't want to hurt the nice old woman._ My favorite aunt and my father seemed rather attached to her. "I'm not gonna pretend I don't know what's happening. He's a spy for Kronos." I've always hated beating around the bush. Got it from my Mamma it seems. "Kronos has been trying for a while to get into my head, he knows I have a whole graveyard worth of dirt and skeletons on his ass. He wants to control me. He wants me on his side. He-" I choked up, too angry. My grandfather was a sick fuck.

"_I see,_" Mnemosyne's voice was calming when she didn't want to rip my throat out. She must've heard the honesty in the anger. "_Could we please talk face-to-face now. Your father and aunt are holding you. And you got quite angry a moment ago. Zeus doesn't need any more fuel to his Crusade against ya. And your Fae heritage seems to be a bit wilder and more untamed_"- tell me about it- "_than the already wild and untamed nature ya got from your father…. Now, could ya please open up?" _She sounded hopeful.

I hummed, "Sure." I opened a teeny-tiny slit for her to slip through, Marlowe monitoring me.

A beautiful, middle-aged, brown haired woman with plump lips and wide smile appeared. She didn't have a headache-inducing aura. I looked to Marlowe out the corner of my eye. Her voice drifted in my head, "_**She only came with a little of her essence, as to not seem threatening I assume. Now do not be fooled. She is a powerful Titaness and your body is still out there with them,**_" she warned. "_**Maintain eye contact, for respect, and showing her that you are not submitting. That you are all talk and no walk. It is instinctual for powerful beings to test these aspects. Mnemosyne is one of the nicer ones. I said **_**nicer**_**, not nice. Keep your guard up at all times. Don't falter. It takes her one look in someone's eyes and she knows absolutely everything they do. And you do not want that,**_" she was very serious. _Hell yeah, I don't. _I love that cat- dragon- eh, "_**Now, use that shield you pride yourself with. You maintain eye contact. But show her absolutely **_**nothing you do not want seen**_**. Eyes are windows to the soul, my little fledgling. I'm here for you,**_" she assured me. The power in her voice was always refreshing.

I followed Maré's instructions. I added a rather innocently charming smile of my own as I extended my hand to shake, "A pleasure, auntie."

She shook my hand and smiled back, "The pleasure's all mine." _Marlowe definitely didn't lie about eye contact. It's like she tryna gouge them out with her own to see what's behind. _I did my frosty trick on them- extra caution never hurt anyone. "With a personality and a face like yours I s'pose I could begin to understand my brother's fascination with you." _Compliment? Eh, why not. _Her smile was begrudgingly appreciative. I widened my smile. _I am a lovable person, of course she'll fucking like me._

I almost snorted out loud. "Could I ask you for a favor?" I tilted my head to the side and my eye went a little wide. I probably looked like a curious kitten if Marlowe's amused huff was anything. "In place of my dream?" _Nothing's for free, bitch._

"I feel like I have to be wary of that politeness. Something in your eyes tells me it really, _really_ rare?" She raised an eyebrow, as she sat at another boulder I thought up for her.

"I'd just want to see what happened with Lord Morpheus. Beginning to end. No more, no less," I added a little pout. She continued to raise an eyebrow. I almost scowled and rolled my eyes.

I sighed and focused on something. I was sure my eyes were glowing at this point. I breathed deeply and let it go, as the last breath left a small vial with a glowy sliver of something was in my hand.

"My memory," I shook the vial in front of her face. Although that was a little necessary for the Titaness of Memories. _Ha!_ "For yours," I reached my hand out with a smile.

"Hmm, you're a smart one," she hummed looking at the memory. I closed my hand and held it under Marlowe's belly. "Lovely cat," she began. "But why are ya scared is what I'm tryna found out. What would a pretty, little, young thing like you want hidden six feet under?"

I bitter little chuckle left me without consent, "I'll show you a bit when you show me what I want if you're so curious."

"A little confident, are we?" I only smiled. _Stalemate, bitch._

A little glare-down later, and I'd watched what I did to Morpheus in 'cold blood'. _Now at least I'm sure he deserves it. Bitch-ass fucker…. _Clearly neither Apollo or Dionysus bought his bullshit. Neither did my old man. It was touching, especially Apollo- never met the dude. And… I sighed out loud. I knew those Pains in the ass would get me in trouble. They were too deep in bloodlust to notice anything. And I considered Lupe the smart one….

Well cat's out the bag. Marlowe rubbed her head with my cheek, rubbing the murderous look off my face. I'm in love with her already.

A string of thought passed by, I caught it to analyze later. Now, I have a Titaness to deal with.

"You got something for me, little one?" She was clearly getting impatient. _Immortals, no patience. Time barely passes here, woman, you should know!_

"Now this is no trip down memory lane," I smirked as I put my hands on her cheek and pulled her face close. Eye contact, "But it'll do."

_It was dark, and it was raining. They were in an alley. A dead end. There was no sound, as if everything was muted. There, behind a green trash can, a little girl was shivering. She had tear streaks down her bloody and dirty cheeks. Hell, she was dirty all over, scrapes were still bleeding. She couldn't be more than five. There was a golden sheen to the area around her. Monster dust. The girl was sick and tired. _

_At the mouth of the alley, three men were passing. The street seemed deserted. The stopped and looked inside. They were tripping, laughing boisterously. Drunk, obviously. The men were talking, but they heard nothing. The men approached. The silence was deafening, especially as one guy threw the garbage can to the side. He shouldn't be able to do that… if it wasn't for the golden tint in his eyes. His buddies followed, cornering the terrified little girl, throwing around anything she used to hide behind. _

_Obviously, the men had no good intentions. Pedophiles, they all were. The girl was a thing of beauty. Her black hair, mused though it was, gleamed in the rain- the men had ripped a fire escape and a metal awning in their pursue. Her wide, beautiful blue-green eyes were widened even more in horror. The men liked it, the fear. She scrunched her little nose, she could smell their intentions and them. Her small but full dark pink lips were trembling. She didn't want this. The yellow toothed smiles, or the lewd looks- she didn't want any of that._

_The first man took off his belt, then pants. He was talking but they didn't hear anything. Again, his buddies followed. As soon as the man reached a filthy hand to touch her hair, he recoiled. He began screaming, the rain took up a bit- lightning followed by thunder drowned the man's pleas. His buddies this time turned around, trying to shove whatever dignity they thought they had left in there pants and ran. And tripped._

_The first one was writhing on the murky concrete. The little girl was on top of him, a vicious glint in her storming eyes, a small, lifeless smile on her lovely lips. She had chopped the filth's dignity off, and his hands, and tongue. She was looking at the bloody heart in her hands in fascination. The man had a wistful smile as life left his eyes, a painful death, but the last thing he saw was worth it. An angel._

_The little girl turned to the two other guys. They were desperately trying to melt into the wall. She frowned when she smelled piss. These men were disgusting. They needed a shower. _

_The rain was coming down in sheets. The men only saw glowing eyes looming closer- poor eyesight. The little girl stood in front of her prey. She smiled a small smile. The men's pleading turned grateful at the sight of the gorgeous, heartwarming smile. They smiled too. They smiled, as the beautiful little girl ripped their throats out with her razor-sharp claws._

Mnemosyne took a deep breath as I yanked us out the memory. She tried to break contact. I held tighter, and looked into her eyes. _You asked for this, auntie. Enjoy._ I took another deep breath and forced her with me.

_It looked to be before dawn. But it was dark, it was always dark in this place. And cold, so cold. They were looking at a snow-covered plain. Again, there was a little girl, different this time though. She couldn't have been more than eight. Her hair, a blue-white platinum, was billowing behind her like dirt-crusted cape. Her pale skin was flecked with red and blotched with blue. She was too thin, almost skeletal. Her paleness did not help the previous observation, her skin was near translucent. The young girl was severely underdressed for the frosty weather, but she blended with the snowy plain._

_There was sound this time, the young girl's labored breathing and the snow and grass crunching under her nimble feet as she ran fast, faster than the bullets and arrows she was dodging. There was talk in the background, and the grinding of loud and big cars. The talking could have been some garbled Slavic lingo, but with the blaring silence and the labored breaths they were hearing, it could've been gibberish._

_The young girl still kept running. The sun was rising, not that it meant anything, it'd still be hellishly cold. The girl kept dodging and running. Running, running, running. The blood flowing from where an arrow had lucked out froze on her skin and tattered clothes. But the poison kept flowing throw her blood. Blue poison dart frog venom. The arrows were fermented in it, she could smell it. The bullets were poisoned too, and she was getting too woozy to dodge. The bullets were water hemlock. Chosen specifically for her, they'd leered when they'd set her off for their hunt. She was fighting off the symptoms she was afraid of most- muscular paralysis. She couldn't stop running, wouldn't. She couldn't let the men kill her, wouldn't let them. _

_She ran and ran and ran, the nausea was too much, the swelling, her bloated lungs, crippled feet. She couldn't take it anymore. A bullet was the last tether. She was shot into a frozen river. She broke the ice, the young girl was going down… down… down._

_As the men celebrated her fall, the young girl had a satisfied smile on her face. But down, down, down she went._

"Why," Mnemosyne croaked out. Her eyes were slightly puffy. It seemed auntie didn't like what she saw. As an immortal, how much has she seen, already? Soft-hearted pusssy. _Don't bite more than you can swallow, and digest._

"The _why_ doesn't concern you," I whispered in the eerie silence of the grassy field. "Memory lane wouldn't've been nice. My head is a dangerous place, ma'am." I let go of her face and smiled dangerously, while still managing to look innocent. I offered her the vial.

Her face went stony as she snatched it with as much dignity as she could muster. _I must have really shaken her._ Marlowe was seated on my shoulders. With all the talk of eye contact and shit, her face never once met Mnemosyne. Incognito it is then, ancient dragoness.

I felt a little smug, not gonna lie. I gave her a message, then waved her out of my reception. "_Ciao-ciao_, auntie. Have a lovely rest of your day,"

"Till we meet again, little one," she poofed out, not smiling. _Aww, was I a bad host?_

I looked to Marlowe, "Whaddya think? Too much?" I smirked.

"**Nah,**" she purred and stretched, baring her belly. "**Just enough.**"

I hummed in response, the boulder melted into a jelly bean bag. I took a few deep breaths to recenter myself. Just because I see it all everyday doesn't mean it still isn't sometimes crippling and exhausting. I matched my breathing to Marlowe's.

On the bright side, at least now I know why I'm on Olympus. _They can't survive without me._ Still creepy knowing that I was watched sleeping. Is no one safe these days?!

I never wanted my Fae parentage out like this. And to the Olympian Council of all places! Only two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, and it won't be me. I still haven't found a way to permanently kill golden-blooded immortals. But when I do, well….

Well, at least now I won't have to find a way to sneak during the quest away from their view. They seem to have a habit of '_watching over me_.'

Now, I can go on that damn quest sometime soon. Two weeks were left till Solstice. Two weeks left to find and locate it. It would take me a couple days solo, even with divine intervention- not a good thing, btw. But if I'm staying at Camp, I could at least follow one tradition.

I sighed. I still got one more stop- if I can pull it off. Then maybe a half hour of legit sleep would be left. I sighed again, and started working.

Olympus

It was five minutes later that she surfaced. Time's different in minds. It could have been a second or an hour in there for Lady Mnemosyne for all they knew. She pulled her hand from Percillia's forehead as if burned.

"Was it that bad inside, Mnemosyne?" Zeus lifted an eyebrow. He seemed more focused and serious. _Weird._

"I wasn't even in," she spat angrily. "A reception mindscape of sorts. As far as I'm concerned, no-one gets into her head," she swallowed.

Her pale and angry appearance wasn't doing anything good to the already high tension and general anxiety. It was unlike her, she was always preppy to the point of exuberant indifference.

Hestia took her niece, who snuggled happily in her arms, and sat back at the Hearth. Poseidon's face was already wiped of emotion, but a dark aura followed him.

Unbeknownst to them all, his daughter had let him in too. He witnessed what went down. Witnessed his failure as a father, he couldn't protect her when she most needed it. Oh, how he hated this feeling, and how he got used to it. It happened all the time, and each and every time he most _absolutely loathed_ it. But like his little Princess says, _Oh, well._

"Did you get it though?" someone asked her- she didn't care who at the moment. A child should never have to kill. And she was only a baby when she _slaughtered _these men. Now, Mnemosyne would've gutted them herself, Artemis would've had a field day. They don't tolerate rapists, which is very _funny_ since basically everyone was a rapist in the Throne Room. Irony, bitch. But still the girl was a baby, she should be learning the alphabet letters not _Murder 101_. It was a horrifying image- a gorgeous, innocent, five-year old sadistic killer. She chuckled darkly, "Yeah, I've got it alright, hun."

She threw the vial in the air then blasted the thing into a large screen. _At least the girl knows how to extract a memory_. It completely slipped her mind to check, though her gut was telling her it was untampered and HD. Still, rookie mistake, made her look incompetent in her own eyes.

They all sucked a breath when Tartarus appeared, the room went colder and darker. _Oh, dear. _

A pair of malicious golden eyes appeared down, low in the pit- barely visible, but they saw it. _Oh, fuck._

And there was Percillia, looking as tired and fed up as can be. _Ha! She's only been to this world what? A week, two? Tough luck. _

"_Hmm, you look just as stunning as your grandmother._" Well, that settles it. _Shit._

"_And your voice is just as charming as the annoying static from earlier, grandpa._" Well, _that_ settles the little one's level of I-don't-give-a-fuck. Insulting a Titan! And Kronos out of them all….

And giving them a heart attack, Kronos fucking _laughed_. Besides the sound feeling like cheese graters going in and out their ears, that reaction was absurd. The girl should be dead, yet here she was purring happily in the Hearth. "_You amuse me greatly, granddaughter._"

"_Aww, you're calling me family,_" she somehow managed to look thrilled, not dead. "_Too bad you burned all your chances to be my grandpa,_" she pouted thoughtfully and pretended to think. "_What with the astounding count of assassination attempts you send especially for me._" This didn't sound like the right tone for this specific conversation.

"_Only the best for you, granddaughter,_" he crooned. How fucking sweet. "_Yet here you are,_" he sighed mournfully, as if someone had killed his puppy via tickles. "_I had to use a… not insignificant amount of power to talk to you._" Then he added thoughtfully, "_Since surpassing your mental barricades proved too taxing and would really defeat the purpose._"

Percillia hummed. "_Flattery will get you nowhere,_" she crooned at the psychotic murderer. She added playfully, "_But I still hope you found them interesting though._"

"_Oh, don't you worry your pretty head, engóni_"- Percillia snorted- "_They were far more interesting than your cousin's,_" Kronos amended. "_Bloody and cannibalistic battlefields can only repel one for so long._" That statement was met with horrified silence.

Ares paled, a furious look morphed his scarred, handsome face to something terrible. He was at a loss for anything coherent. The Middle East took the brunt of his anger.

Zeus looked deceptively thoughtful, he was furious. The girl was right, how? He didn't know. Though he could tell the others were wary of his reaction. No matter how predictable he's been, he is still full of surprises. He looked to his furious son, the girl so far was right? Another leap of faith on his side, he turned to the screen. The girl said she helped him in the letter, then he is helped. _Fathering Skills: ABSENT._

Kronos continued as if he didn't just drop a bomb, "_And I ate my children, you know._" _Fathering Skills: NON-EXISTENT. _Said children grimaced. Too much acid in one conversation. "_But you already figured a way around that, I suppose?_" He chuckled darkly, "_Since I can't even entertain myself with visions of puny mortals destroying each other._"

Ares focused his ire on his baby cousin. He was trying to melt that tiny, satisfied smirk off her face. _Oh, when he gets his hands on her…._ He didn't even care how wrong that sounded, he was so damn angry.

Percillia rolled her eyes and severe annoyance flickered in her eyes. She put a complete fake smile and said in sarcastic enthusiasm, "_Trips to Olympus are absolutely delightful, grandfather! Especially at night. It most certainly gives New York a run for the title of 'The City that Never Sleeps.'"_

Dionysus closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. He gave himself a mental facepalm. _Of course, just stealing _my _wine isn't enough for her._ He couldn't hold on to his younger form anymore. Welcome back, trailer park dweller.

Kronos changed his tactics. He went for menacing, well, _more_ menacing. "_You know you won't be able to find it._"

Zeus sat a bit more forward, listening more closely now that his Bolt was mentioned, no-matter how vague. He's not dumb, thankfully. (_Arguable!_) Though for some the implications did pass over their heads.

"_Not even he knows where he hid it before you… saved his mentality,_" Kronos continued.

Ares was… furious, to say the least. But he reigned it in, no point in showing any weakness. With all that's happening, if he was seen as the weak link, well, his ego won't allow it or allow him to think it. His evil grandfather was up and at it…. And not lying to himself, it was a clever move, taking Ares over. The damage he could've done would've been in epic proportions. Taking out the God of War, using him to fuel the anger between two of the most powerful beings against each other, creating an all out war would have made things _way_ too easy for Kronos and his plans.

And yes, he wouldn't have minded a bit of chaos or blood here and there. But let's be smart, if he was under Kronos's thrall any longer he wouldn't have even been there to witness his handiwork. He would be reforming in Tartarus. And that it was that little cretin who, somehow knowing while himself and all-powerful gods were fooled for an apparently long time, saved him made him hate Little Moxie even more. Hate is a strong word, but an ego's got to ego. And since when had anyone of them been all that reasonable with anger, or at all?

At least his ego can feed itself with the knowledge that _he _was the one to find the Master Bolt and not one of the others. Despite not knowing the how's, who's and what's.

"_Oh, quit with the pronoun game,_" Percillia _chastised _and rolled her eyes at motherfucking Kronos. If Ares could do one thing nice at the moment, it would be admiring her bravery. _Little girl's got balls._ Some might argue that this was stupidity, it is debatable. She continued this time a bit more bored, "_It's old, overused and absolutely useless, g-pa._"

Yeah, stupidity it seems.

"_I should smite you for your insolence!_" He bellowed, enraged at the demigodess's disrespect. Kronos was done playing games. Even through the memory, the power he released was cold and unforgiving, the occupants in the room felt it close like a vise around their throats. Zeus remembered just why the don't-speak-of-my-evil-deadbeat-dad law was issued. The others surely did too, at this moment. Well, lucky you _that_ law was just annulled!

Props for Percillia for going on like nothing was happening and appearing unfazed, "_But ya didn't._" And a big fat fucking _boo!_ for aggravating the Evil Titan Lord and mocking him. "_Cause ya can't,_" she crooned in fake pity, with a hand on her heart.

They didn't know whether they wanted her to just shut up or for her to go on to rectify this horrible, terrible mistake. They couldn't do anything to stop this trainwreck from happening anyway, so they might as well enjoy it. She _is_ still sitting there, unharmed…except for the deluxe-frozen-fingers courtesy of two dark, oppressing beings.

Percillia ploughed on, her happy-go-lucky face gone and replaced with a hard, no-nonsense, serious expression. "_If you only brought me here to mock me… well… you wasted your breath. And power. Just like you did with that ward during the game. You can't even give yourself a form to appear with instead of this darkness,_" she curled her lip in distaste and flicked her frozen fingers in dismissal. "_Now I'm not even interested to know why I am here. Goodbye, grandfather._"

They were at awe.

Kronos began bellowing. They were barely containing a flinch at the terrible power the voice held.

And proving, furthermore, that she doesn't give any shits, she bit her thumb-cue more uncomfortable Kronos noise- and said in a low, mocking voice, "_No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bit my thumb,sir._"

Then everything went dark. They weren't going to mention it but….

"Whatever possessed her to do that, at least we now know the Titan Lord of Evil reads Shakespeare," Hermes snorted. His comment worked and broke the silence. They all laughed, the laughter taking on a hysterical edge.

Poseidon was kept on his metaphorical toes all through this confrontation. On one hand, his daughter was talking to his father. On the other hand, his daughter was talking to his father. His supposedly defeated, imprisoned, powerless, I-don't-want-to-see-you-for-never-in-a-million-years father.

"I s'pose this is proof enough, hun?" Mnemosyne broke the hysteria, looking oddly serious as she made eye contact with Zeus.

He looked like he was about to reply with all the self-righteous fury of a thumb tack parading as a spear. Mnemosyne interrupted.

She raised an eyebrow, "I hope to see something done soon… or we are all doomed and you damn well know this. He managed to go under all of y'all's _all-mighty _noses and steal the Master Bolt and who knows what else besides your dignity on the way," she sneered. She was absolutely done, with a reality check from a _baby_ on how far here nephews and nieces had let this world go, she was furious. "My sister did not sacrifice all that she did for a _laughable, irresponsible, foolhardy_ council of _disappointments _to turn this"- she gestured angrily around her and with every insult she spat out they flinched- "into their little own sandbox." Mnemosyne was trembling in barely restrained rage.

She was always a calm person, and she prided herself to being able to keep her cool, but _enough _is _enough_. "You can't go declaring war on each other for no reason. Yes, your Bolt was stolen! But what did you do? Sit on your ass and sent out your dogs to look for it while you just _miraculously _managed to turn your head to the side and accuse the first thing you saw. And lucky us it was Poseidon. And with both of you being too prideful and childish to look over that and talk it out, and figure out who exactly dared to steal from you, trespassing your security and your senses, and invading a _supposedly_ safe territory. You got to it so bad that when Ares found the Bolt and in extension who stole it, he was too high on the bloodlust you two were _oozing _for my damned brother to somehow appear and overpower him. And if I did my calculations correctly, he's been under Kronos's thrall for nearly six months till a week or so ago. Thanks to a little mortal- albeit her being a bit _more_\- was able to find and eliminate a threat that would, could and _will_, if given a chance, destroy us inside out in a matter of her two week stay here."

They looked embarrassed and angry. _Good._ But comparing a mortal to an immortal never ended well.

She lowered her voice, "My brother is like the plague, and I am under no delusions that he did not spread to others, either controlling them unknowingly or them being fully aware and his allies. She took out a root, yes, but there are more. I give credit where credit is due, and the only one who did something was Percillia Jackson. Not one of you!" she bellowed. Mnemosyne lowered her voice, again, but she might as well have been shouting in the silence of their indignant, self-righteous, angry shame, "And you better start doing something before this is all over before it even began."

She turned around, and left with her head high, leaving them to wallow in the dust. She needed to calm down. When she loses the southerness out of her accent you know you're fucked. And she left it behind as soon as she opened her mouth to say something that was the complete opposite of what was actually said.

The silence was highly uncomfortable. Or that may have been the sour tang of fear, shame and regret coming from the thirteen Olympians.

Percillia Jackson shifting in Hestia's arms brought them out the funk.

"She'll be waking soon enough," Hestia murmured sadly. She only slept for less than a couple hours, but she's always up at dawn somehow. "I'll be back soon," she announced before her Hearth exploded in flames, taking Hestia and her niece to her brother's Cabin.

Without Hestia's calming aura they flashed back to do their jobs, keeping up appearances and all. They were gonna discuss it eventually. Had to actually. With even Hades there, since it wasn't just a trivial check-up. They were just fucking apprehensive. Actually… they were terrified. And thanks to Mnemosyne reminding of, well, a whole lot of stuff…. They were just frozen in that moment of horrible realization, minds working a mile a second, though.

If there is one thing they were sure of? It was that they were _woefully_ unprepared.

**Hello, I'll get on with the summary...**

**Summary:** From Percillia's point of view (finally). Perci is asked for the dream that Morpheus risked his existence for, a bit dramatic if you ask Percillia, but to Morpheus it sure felt that way. She plays Mnemosyne a bit. We get two exclusive looks to her past. It leaves the Titaness uncertain, which to immortals equates to anger. Perci thinks important stuff over, and heads on to do a last thing before sleep. Marlowe shows up

Back on Olympus, Mnemosyne is filled with indignant anger from Percillia's rather rude dismissal. She showcases the memory, and it doesn't get any better from there. Reality finally catches up to them after a millenia followed by a harsh and jarring verbal spanking from Mnemosyne. (_petulant children..."My father will hear about this." Hell yeah he is now, unlucky you!_) Time to see if they float or sink.

**I'm tired. So this is a goodbye chapter for summer break... Enjoy and tell me what you think, please and thank you. Ooh, ! ! I reached 150 followers and I am so proud of me! Thank you so much!**

**-3anona, out!**


	17. Got No Self Control

**Disclaimer: There's a song in the chapter- Ceux Qui Rêvent by Pomme. And Self Control by Bebe Rexha for the title. Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 16: Got No Self Control

_5:22 AM_

I woke up, pissed as hell. Mig had returned with a vengeance. I ditched Dio and tried out the new bathroom in sperm donor's Cabin. It was lovely… I spent an unhealthy amount of time in the jacuzzi.

_Aww, pops, stop spoiling me! C'mon, fucker, I'm tryna not like you. Seriously._

I put my hair in braided coronet, and trust me, it is _not_ easy. Long, thick, wet hair…. I'm a freaking champion. I put on a hideous Camp shirt. _Orange_! Who the hell'd chose such a color. This is no misdemeanor, it's surpassed it. This is a felony!

Anywho, I got it cropped and the sleeves ripped. There's no need to hide my weapons here. Or my tatts today. Speaking off…

I was in the basement, the mini-arena there wasn't stocked. S'pose you can't have everything. I already had more than enough. "Oi! Get out of there!"

"**Hmmph**," Marlowe sniffed in obvious disgust and fixed me with a frosty glare. "**Really, little one, stealing from the god of thieves!**"

I shrugged off her incredulousness. _Ha!_ "I did not steal it."

I slipped on the leather sandals and started lacing it up. I hope George and Martha's word was as solid and true as their appetite. (I was grounded, had to clean out the Big House basement. It was horrible, the rat and roach colonies down there…_blugh! _The two snakes feasted till they were bulging.) They promised the gladiator sandals were friction-resistant and long-long lasting.

"**It is not called borrowing, if you plan on keeping it permanently**," she growled.

"I did not _borrow_ it, either." I go through so many of these. And my combat boots are a bit clunky for Summer. _I swear if the two snakes were lying…_

"**Oh, really?**" She hissed, _gato-stylo_. "**So you want to convince me you actually** _**bought**_ **it?**"

Man, her not trusting me _hurt_. "As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, I did buy it, you overgrown, furry, lizard pair of mittens," I threw at her in a monotone voice with narrowed eyes and a straight-face.

I rolled out a twice-my-height tire. That shit was _heavy_ to roll. I let it flop to the side in the sandy arena, coughing through the dust and sand cloud. I completely ignored Marlowe's… whatever she's doing. And yes I did pay for the godly sandals. Hermes was also, indirectly the god of speed, so he had to have good shoes to go with it. I paid twice the price of a normal pair, plus the rats and roaches.

"Hey, Marlowe?" I called the frothing cat- "**Stealing is what's going to land the world in another World War! And then **_**you**_ **go steal? Do you not care for consequences?**" _No, not really…_\- who was busy throwing a tantrum. _Immortals… always so impatient._ "Could you time my laps?"

She stopped abruptly, "**What are you doing with that tire?**" Her snowy eyes were wide. Can't blame her really. I would gawk too if I saw someone- not _moi_\- tie a flaming whip around a monster-tire and the other end around their waist….

"Training," I grunted as the piece of black rubber moved an inch. I was towing it around the arena. _For a piece of rubber, this sure is heavy. Shit._

_6:37 AM_

I was a panting and sweating mess. Hauling an African Elephant's weight around in circles for the better part of the hour was more or less slave work.

On the bright side, I went from crawling to walking-slightly-not-upright. Progress, people. But my calves were burning like hell.

I glared at the giggling, blue _pnévma_. "What?"

"_Nothing~_," Ana sang. Riptide was a wide, bronze cuff on my shoulder sans-tattoo. The gemstones encrusted like outlines, holding the bronze in the middle. She and Marlowe were playing backgammon. "_You're just too cute_," she cooed, Marlowe nodding in agreement. She then growled at Marlowe, who apparently had lucked out with the dice and was moving white pieces around. She won, Ana flipped the table.

I glared at them both. I struggled a bit- _a lot_\- with lifting the tire to roll it back into whichever corner it came.

"_Aaaargh!_"

I spun around so fast I barely had time to duck out of certain decapitation. I rolled and came up with Riptide faster than a blink.

_Block, thrust, parry, jump, swing, kick, push, thrust, block, parry-_ and shuffle-repeat.

Adrenaline was pumping and the exhaustion of the tire was thrown to the back of my mind. I ignored the pain in my arms, legs and lungs and kept pushing. I jumped and parried. I gave a round-house kick that was barely avoided and swung Riptide in succession.

_Clang, swish, bang, urgh, swing, clack, scree, huff, bang… _

I know at a moment like this one would say they saw _red_ at the prospect of a surprise attack. But not _moi_.

I saw _blue._

_7:08 AM_

"_Not bad, Percillia. You have great reflexes and reaction time. And your trust in your instinct is truly admirable._"

"**Not bad, little one. Not bad at all,**" Marlowe hummed in agreement. "**You do, however, need to work on your swordsmanship. It's adequate at best, mediocre at worst.**"

Now, if I had my hands available I would be choking the life out of Marlowe, and I _would _find a way to choke Ana. But seeing as my head was shoved roughly in the sand, I could barely breath and that's not including the heaving I'm doing, and Ana with a surprisingly strong grip on my arms and a phantom-y sword that was actually cutting through my neck, my hands were tied at the moment.

Riptide was shoved in my destroyed coronet. And, did they say… "Mediocre? _Excuse_ me," I gritted through the sand and my teeth.

"_Yup, you're okay with a sword. But okay is not good. You need to be best, sweetheart,_" Ana hummed happily. I think her age is catching up to her, half her brain cells are probably dead- if she had any to begin with. Marlowe was prowling in circles around me, amusement acrobating in her eyes. _Bishes._

I shoved Ana off of me with all the strength I had. I grunted as I dumped the water- _thanks, cat bish_\- on my bleeding neck, healing it.

I walked and grabbed Riptide. "Now I can't settle for mediocre, eh?" My face twisted in a vicious grin as I turned and faced my shield and sword.

_Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak._ And there is no way in Hell I'll show these crusty, dusty dinosaurs how much it hurt, what they said. I've never stopped looking over my shoulder since I was five. I _am_ good, _best_, but to them not good enough.

But, you know, immortals gotta immortal.

_8:23 AM_

Again, I was tired. I haven't been this beat up since Mom was training me in the art of daggers.

I took another shower, rebraided my hair and geared up. My arms and hands were decked in accessories and rings- read: in weapons-turned-jewelry. My colts were in thigh holsters over my jean short shorts, Kýma was in a sheath, horizontally in the back of my shorts. I put the 'mortal' glocks in my shoulder tattoo-inventory-purple-pouch, remember the thick, black stripe above my elbow? Good.

I had the orange felony on, with the godly sandals- there were tiny wings near my ankles.

I made it look good. Scratch that, I made it beautiful. Like me.

Marlowe was napping on my shoulder and Ana went back to circlet nestled in my braid. And-

_Bang, bang, bang!_

Fuck! Can't someone ignore door knocking in peace. _I want to admire my beauty, people._

"What," I hissed as Grover stumbled back when I yanked the door open. "What is with you and banging on doors," I demanded. "What do you want?"

He bleated. I sighed.

"My bad, G-man." I gestured outside. The Cabin locked itself behind me. Good. "How ya doin'?"

"Mr. D wants to talk to you and you didn't show up for breakfast," he mumbled. "I'm worried, Perci."

I smiled at him, "No need, G-man. I was just training and getting to know my Cabin."

He nodded, "Is that where you found the cat?"

"Nope." I didn't elaborate. He just shrugged, he knows I'll tell him eventually. I always do.

I smirked, "How's your girlfriend?"

"Juniper's not my girlfriend," he blushed. _Sure, sure. I totally believe you._

"What makes you think I mean Juniper?" I questioned innocently.

He groaned, "You're evil, Perce."

I hummed. He leaned his head on my shoulder. I patted his back consolingly. We walked in relative peace, ignoring the pavillion morning chaos.

"You thought on it?" I gave him a serious look.

He swallowed, "Yeah, I did."

I raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"I'm with you all the way," he sighed dramatically. I smiled. He shook his head.

"Good." I looked up at the porch. No one was there. "You head to your girlfriend then, G-man." He was already backing away, shaking his head and mumbling about evil female best friends. "And pack light!"

I spent the next twenty minutes snooping in Chiron's office. I looked at records of campers, past and present. And, holy fuck, if I didn't know better I'd think I was in some trauma-center, government-research-facility.

Now, let me rephrase that. I already read through them my first day here. At the moment, due to the lovely escalations, I have another objective, that is not my curiosity. Shit's gonna hit the fan, I just want to be prepared for it as much as I can. 'Cause there is no stopping it.

If only the damn folders weren't in fucking Polish… It's like- _ugh_\- German on steroids!

I went up to visit Sabrina. I needed to hijack the alcohol I left under her wrathful gaze. Bitch scares the shit outta campers.

After I secured the bottles in my tatt-pouch, I faced Sabrina.

"Well, no hello? No how do you do?" The Oracle of Delphi didn't move an inch. "I mean, I get you're dead and cursed and all… since you didn't change bodies… at least that's what the archives say about ya… but you could at least, I dunno? Wink or something?" The hippie mummy still did not move a centimeter. "Okay so that's how it's gonna be between us?" I huffed, crossed my arms and shook my head. I was disappointed. Not even a nanometer.

As I was leaving I threw over my shoulder, "Fine, your choice." I opened the trapdoor and was preparing to jump- it was probably safer than the termite-infested stairs. "I won't be telling you about the Lightning Bolt quest anytime soon."

_Bang! Click…_

One second I was jumping through the door, the next I'm wrapped up in tendrils of poison green smoke, rooting me to the spot. I was facing Sabrina. The same green smoke was slithering behind her clear, glassy eyes. And- _is that hissing?_

Yup, so on top of the rat and roach infestation, they got vipers hiding in the attic? Anywho-

"_I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask…"_

You know? Now I can't find one shred of sympathy for her saggy boobs.

I was developing a headache of epic proportions, holding on to your magic, keeping it in a chokehold, is _so_ not easy. I could let it go, but… First, I know it'll get me nowhere. Second, I kinda asked for it.

Though I'm pretty sure I did not ask for green, smoky snakes to slither all over me like moving ropes, leaving freezing cold, frost trails in its wake. Nor did I ask for the _Conjuring_ set-up. Everything went black except for the green smoke and the glowing hippie. And the snakes were still squishing me.

I could hear Marlowe trying to get through the door. I left her on Chiron's swively chair.

"Well?" I raised an eyebrow. "What do you want me to fucking do?"

No answer. Her unhinged jaw still pouring the green tendrils.

"If you wanted me to slit my arm for you as a sacrifice then I heavily apologize to you, oh, mighty fuck." I was sneering, and my power was dying to lash out at the grossness of this all.

Still, no answer.

I snorted. "Didn't take you for the nosy type, hun," I bared my teeth and hissed at the smoke snake wrapping around my throat. "The Lightning Bolt quest? I s'pose a few tips would be nice."

And- _hallelujah!_\- that seemed to do the trick. As she began speaking, all my ropes coiled impossibly tighter, more than you can think possible. It was squeezing the life out of me. I didn't bother struggling- it would only waste my power and energy. To appease my wild core, I began building up the power to release it if necessary. (_The Oracle is notorious for the high insanity and death rates of visitors as much as it was for the fucking plot-twists out of fucking nowhere._)

The smoke from her mouth condensed into something I wished I'd never have to see in my life ever again.

Irina Sokolova- the only motherfucking bitch that left the catacombs after my Mama's visit. The bitch who I hate _so fucking much_, I want to cry.

She stood there, her beautiful cruel smile, white blond hair, vicious, dark blue eyes, and all that tall, elegant confidence… I hate her. I hate her _so much_. I threw my own tendril at her, like the one she was holding at an emaciated, bloody and young me.

I kept throwing it all at her. I was breathing hard, and she was _fucking_ _smilling_. It did not cross my mind that she can never be here, she's a human. Hell, seeing another me didn't do the trick. I just kept at it. Again and again and again. I was near fainting, the smoke like a noose around my neck, like ropes chafing against my clammy skin. Just like the last time I saw her.

I went limp. The ropes, the only thing holding me up, adrenaline was keeping me awake. _I gave up way too quick… the memories were too much._

Through my haze, I could see Irina. Her hands tugged at the chains around younger-me's neck. The hissing was too loud. Young me whimpered. She put her mouth next to my ear, and whispered a command.

Young me's mouth opened immediately. A voice that wasn't me hissed-

"_You shall go west, and face the god who has turned,_"

It was old and ugly, and exactly how I felt.

With one last smile, Irina and young-me disappeared in a puff a smoke. I was getting my shaking under control. But, naturally, it all went to hell with the next image.

An ethereal, heartbreakingly gorgeous women appeared. She was wearing a grass green gown, and was barefoot- like always. Her long, scarlett locks were fluttering in the thick humidity of the attic. Her eyes- the entirety of them, pupils, irises, whites- were blue. A tiny nose in her pale face. Her ears were long and pointy. And the bitch was decked in jewelry.

The Seelie Queen, in the not-flesh.

Same like Irina, she was holding a younger me. A five-year old me. Little-me was smiling at me, sweetly and innocently- it was oddly genuine and reassuring. Little-me was a bit different however. She had slightly pointed ears, only barely. And she was glowing like the queen beside her. She had a flimsy, sheer dress wrapped around her. And like the queen, she was wearing a lot of gold and precious stones. But the most shocking aspects were the fluffy black cat ears and tail, and the set of fangs and claws they came with. Oh, and my naturally kohl lined eyes… they were pronounced, more feline. More devastatingly beautiful.

The queen was slightly stroking little me's long hair. I could almost feel it. She looked almost tenderly at me then Little-me, for second I was almost fooled. But the cruel sheen in her eyes, quickly, brought me back to my mind.

Little-me screamed- it was silent, only hissing could be heard- as the queen yanked her head back, almost breaking Little-me's neck. She wouldn't care either way if she did. She snarled viciously in my ear, still looking agonizingly beautiful as ever. Out of my screaming, open mouth came-

"_You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned,_"

Little me's face still twisted in pain and a satisfied, poisoned-honey, fanged smile on the Seelie Queen's face were the last I saw as they _poofed into even more damned snakes_.

I was moaning in pain by now. I remember throwing something, other than words that'll make a sailor blush and stutter, at her. I was drained. Wait, correction: I was being drained.

The green smoky snakes had their fangs in me, sucking my power and energy. It was a miracle I was still up, not gonna say not dead 'cause a couple vampire snakes are not the way I'm gonna be kicking the bucket.

Silent tears were streaming down my face. I moaned and whimpered. _Let it all out… no one can see you._ I moaned again, sticky blood was drenching my collar. I was beyond reason and I was struggling like a mad man. I closed my eyes and shook my head- whiplash was the least of my worries, Hell, even the nausea and blood loss. My fucking braid was coming out! I put too much effort in it and-

I moaned louder this time and whimpered hoping to drown out the sound of the hissing. I closed my eyes, I didn't want to see who's next. I didn't want to see someone else who hurt me.

"_You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,_"

I was sobbing. _No, no, no, no, no, no, no…. _Blood was dripping from my nose and ears. The Oracle's ancient power was a terrible pressure against my head. It was smothering me. It wanted to be heard, not ignored. It was retaliating. _Why… _Why was I fighting against it. That's so stupid. Fuck!

_Survive, survive, survive. _

_Push, push, push. _

I was growling, and I was sobbing. My claws were tearing into my mangled palms. I was a fucking mess, in short. And no matter how much I wanted to ignore it and for it to all go away, my head snapped up. Not only was it Delphi's ancient hissing, but my dear, dear, _dear_ grandfather's hissing somehow made it through.

"_And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end._"

His golden eyes bore into mine. _How the hell did he get here?_ Oh, he definitely did. A tiny sliver of course. But just enough, that combined with the Oracle's ancient powers…. I could finally put a face to the voice. Not a good thing, considering.

He, like my dad and uncle's… and myself, had black hair, it was long to his shoulders and wavy. He was in a golden toga. A wicked scythe was in his hands. A sickle in his belt. The ancient fucker was ripped. And he absolutely _oozed_ everything old and bad and hateful and _wrong_.

I was lightheaded, so maybe his scrapping-chalkboard's laughter wasn't real. _No one's here my ass._

The ropes let up for a bit, I slid to me knees. It tightened again, abruptly. Worse than before. The cold was burning and blood was everywhere. The hissing drowned my sobbing and sounds of pains.

_How the hell is this _thing _in a place full of children? Family friendly my pretty little butt._

"What do you want?" I moaned out pitifully. I didn't even try to recognize my voice. The hissing only got louder. Louder. _Louder._

The darkness was suffocating. Not even a sliver of the morning sun. Only poison green. I was hyperventilating. And hallucinating, it seems.

I began to sing. Singing is nice. I like singing. I like music. It's nice.

"_Mes nuits blanches ne sont pas blanches, à peine claires_

_Semées d'étoiles_

_Petits trous dans la toile étanche_

_Tristes strates sur le voile_

_Et moi, envoutée de ténèbres_

_Je passe des heures infinies_

_À compter les moutons funèbres_

_Qui tapissent mes insomnies,_"

I took a deep breath and forced the words out. I refuse to die in this place- an abandoned, filthy attic. So through my sobbing, growling and heavy breathing and through the hissing and darkness, I sang,

"_Ah minuit est là_

_Ah je ne dors pas_

_Et moins je dors et plus je pense_

_Et plus je pense et moins j'oublie_

_L'immense impasse, l'espace immense_

_Qui s'étendent au fond de mon lit_

_C'est inouï tous ces silences_

_Qu'il est cosmique cet ennui_

_Dois-je recourir à la science?_

_Anesthésier l'insomnie?_"

I was calming down, my voice was getting stronger. The hisses louder, more urgent. It didn't want to be ignored. _Oh, well. Too bad, fucktard._

"_Ah minuit est là_

_Ah je ne dors pas_

_Et puis passé minuit je danse_

_Au rythme des tachycardies_

_Et tout s'emballe et tout balance_

_Et tout m'étale et tout me fui_

_La lune est un fruit un peu rance_

_La vie est une maladie_

_Ceux qui rêvent ont bien de la chance_

_Les autres ont des insomnies_

_Ceux qui rêvent ont bien de la chance_

_Les autres ont des insomnies_

_Ceux qui rêvent ont bien de la chance_

_Quant à moi j'ai des insomnies,_"

Maybe it was all too much, but I swear, through my closed lids, there was blue. A beautiful blue-green. Sea-green.

"_Ah minuit est là_

_Ah je ne dors pas_

_Ah minuit est là_

_Ah je ne dors pas_

_Je ne dors pas_

_Je ne dors pas_

_Je ne dors pas,_"

At first it was hard to get the words out. I was breathing hard and sobbing, but I began to calm down. I closed my eyes and buried my head in my lap. But by the end, the ropes were barely holding.

Mama would sing this to me before I slept. I smiled, not the best choice for a lullaby before sleeping, a song about insomnia. She was efficient in many languages, but she always said French came easier to her. _I miss her so, so much._

I remembered Marlowe's words, "_**Your voice is a **_**powerful** _**weapon in your arsenal, Percillia. Do not forget that.**_" Speaking of her… _Where the _hell _is she? Seriously she's shit at her job._

Anywho. That explains how a lightshow of blacks and greys and whites was tango-ing its way into my vision. I drained my power. _Lovely, just freakin' lovely._

But at fucking last, I saw the light, or so to speak. A ray of sunshine. It was nice, warm. I thought I'd go blind from the dark.

But it just got brighter and brighter. _Hello, blindness, my old friend._ It _hurt_. And I was _tired_, dammit.

As the light got brighter, I realized a couple things.

1\. I was still crying.

2\. A god decided to grace me with all his holy fuckery at the fucking moment.

3\. I got my prophecy for my quest.

4\. I ain't dying in a dusty attic.

5\. I was still singing. And I kept repeating the last line. _Je ne dors pas._ I don't sleep. I can't sleep.

"_Je ne dors pas… je ne dors pas… je ne dors pas…._"

And quite contrary to what I was still singing, I was passing out. A-fucking-gain. This place holds a record for how-many-times-Perci's-fainted! I scoffed.

_Fuck you, you sonuvabish. _

"_Je ne dors pas… je ne dors pas…._"

The Oracle fucking attacked me. I wanna know why. And is that how you're paid for kindness? With fucking torture.

But like they say in Egypt, _aemil elkhayr w ermeeh fil bahr._ In other words, 'Do good and throw it in the sea'.

"_Je ne dors pas…._"

But for how long will it stay in the sea? Nothing stays hidden forever, afterall. And the Oracle, out of 'em all, should know.

I glared at the figure in the light. I glared with everything I had.

_The hell they'll all pay when I'm up._

"_Je ne dor pas._"

And with the final, closing pirouette, the black dots settled across my vision.

**Sooo... my girl's got PTSD... oops. What eles am I gonna throw at her? Anyway, she's got a prophecy now...finally some *beep* action! **

**Remember how everyone dreaded the talk with the oracle 'cause not many survive it? Well, go big or go home, and since I'm already home, we're going big! I have a major part of the quest planned out... but, as always, I am open to suggestions...**

**Oh, and thanks for the reviews, they really made my days... School's been kicking my butt. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**-3anona, out!**


	18. Sweet Little Unforgetable Thing

**Disclaimer: the song is Riptide by Vance Joy in the chapter. And the title's from Bea Miller's S.L.U.T.**

CHAPTER 17: Sweet Little Unforgettable Thing, So Incredible

_10:17 AM_

Good news, I didn't pass out for long. Just a blink.

Bad news, I woke up on defense/offense mode. It didn't help that fucking Apollo was hovering over me, staring- analyzing, whatever.

My fear and panic turned to anger, and anger turned to, well, nothing good.

"I will stab you in the your fucking face," I growled. So, yeah, I wasn't all there. My instincts were haywire. He felt like the Oracle, Delphi was all over him. His golden eyes didn't help much. It also didn't help that he was strikingly beautiful, handsome. Just like the Fae. Beautiful and brutal. Marvelous and merciless.

I could feel his power. I could feel the destructive devastation, the catastrophic calamity. The word _Apollyon -_destroyer- didn't come from thin air.

He was talking, his mouth moving, but I couldn't hear anything beyond my heart going all tachycardiac on my ass. I couldn't smell anything but the tang of blood, _my blood_, and the bitter taste and stench off the Oracle in my mouth.

I tried to move, but I was in ropes.

_Not again. _

_Not again. _

_No more. _

_No more._

All my near-non-existing rationality left me. All I could do was protect myself from the threat. I looked around for liquids. The closest that wasn't blood was a floor away. I was too tired for bloodbending. A dagger appeared in my hand-my precious Kýma. I cut the ropes and launched myself off what was holding me.

I was furious. How dare they restrain me? I looked around and my eyes met gold. The danger. My target. My _prey,_ 'cause I sure as hell ain't his.

He raised his hands as if talking to a scared, cornered wild animal. I snarled at his glowing hands- the glow that had me passing out earlier. Nothing mattered as my mind locked on the audacious humanoid condescending me.

Kýma was in my hand, Ana was in the other. All the other weapons and accessories weren't there.

_He took them, he took them so he could hurt me while I was vulnerable. He took what was mine. He wants to hurt me. He's paying._

I watched his every move. He started to lose the confidence he oozed minutes before. Dunno what he saw in me, but I'm glad he at least started to take me seriously.

I was not going to make the first move. He will. I know it.

I didn't notice the other occupants in the room, or the barrier I unintentionally raised- borrowed it from Marlowe. Marlowe who was standing guard and was hissing at everyone and thing coming close- she wasn't a little cat anymore, she was huge a dark, dark navy blue tiger with stripes in bronze, pitch black claws, larger than a horse, build twice as much as an ox. Her trademark snowy eyes, and bejeweled body were there. She was a sight for sore eyes.

I didn't notice when a white barrier joined my own. Hell, I had no idea who was there or where there was.

A tiny part of me was shaking its head and cussing the shit out of my recklessness, but another was cheering me on and enjoying a tub of popcorn, while simultaneously booing me. Also a part was holding the reins on some very better-left-hidden-for-as-long-as-possible _stuff_ tightly. Some of it slipped through. Not much to be noticed, but the several immortals I registered their presence somewhere would definitely notice.

Did I care? Not one bit. Would I have said the same thing if I was fully there? Probably not, but I would've been a teeny bit disappointed.

The god smirked. I hissed, the sound not nearly human. He came at me, I sidestepped and Ana was out. He deflected.

I was glad I ignored Marlowe's telling me not to wear the Hermes sandals, and that I finally convinced my sweater to turn to something more useful. Like a bulletproof sports bra with tiny hideouts for blades of all sizes. And thanks to this god's Oracle my shirt was barely a shirt- ripped tatterings of orange cloth. I growled again, the sound coming from somewhere deep in my chest.

Apollo didn't have any weapons out. I was insulted. I got angrier- at this point I was wondering why the hell was I mad in the first place?

So while it all went down, I was recuperating. Charging. I slashed at his stomach with Ana while he parried Kýma. He took a pure, white and hot greatsword out. _Stupid desicion._

So, yes, it gives him longer range, but it takes two hands. _Dumb shit_.

I smiled. It wasn't nice. I saw my opening and attacked with a new flurry and flair. Dueling was always like a dance, and elegant one that needs a lot of practice, skill and aptitude. It was therapeutic.

Everything blurred to white, bronze and blue. Hypnotic. The offensive and defensive roles went back and forth.

_Back and forth. Hit and parry. Jump and duck. Kick and stab. Roll and punch. Shuffle and repeat._

So you know besides the part of me that was drowning in pushy instincts and the one laughing and throwing mental popcorn at me? Well, a part of me was taking a battering ram to rationality's suite door, trying to wake it up. It didn't work. So dynamite it is!

My head is a weird space.

"So, uh…," I suddenly spoke up. I realised with a start that I had pointier canines… _Fuck. _"How ya doin'?"

Apollo didn't even twitch. I snorted, "I see where Sabrina gets her manners."

I rolled in between his parted legs. He turned around quickly, to avoid backstabbing. Bitch led his precious right into my awaiting elbow. I rammed it again when he faltered. Ana was vibrating with glee when I kept ramming her business end into his genitalia. Again and again.

"Low blow, Percillia," he groaned, holding onto it. His hands glowed white for a sec. He took a deep breath. "Well, don't you look good, cousin?"

I smiled cheekily, "I always look good, Sunshine." I put Kýma in my waistband holster on my lower back. Ana turned to a beautiful cuff on my shoulder. I wrinkled my nose at the tattered shirt. They _poofed_ in a cyan-white flame, in my gloved hand. The sports bra can function as a halter, crop top for now. My shorts and sandals were good.

I couldn't do shit about my tiny fangs, but my claws retreaded, but instead of stubs it left long, sharp nails. _Why not?_

Blinking, away from Apollo mind you, don't wanna blind myself- he's the god of the sun (and don't forget my special aura detector sight)- thank you very much, my eyesight was better. I'd bet that I had a natural, feline-kohl-eye look. Not complaining, it'll make me even more capable and above all the more beautiful.

Now, I don't like to describe myself as vain, but beauty is a valuable weapon. So, yes, at times I'd get vain.

My ear twitched. I blinked and turned to Apollo, who came to stand next to me on silent feet. Pointy ears too. _Noice_.

"You feeling better now I suppose," it was more statement than question. "Your eyes are back to normal." His voice was oddly warm.

"How so?" I hummed it was quite peaceful, now that I calmed down. My hair was down. It was thick, long and wavy from the braids. And thanks to the new eye adjustment, I can see all the colors in it. The dark blue and green. The red and purple. But never brown, dunno why. The black however was dominating and sucking the light and color out of it all.

"Your eyes aren't glowing. They aren't cat eyes. Or demon-eyes," he listed. Demon-eyes, pupilless, irisless and entirely a dark sea-green. It happened a lot more often than I'd like.

I turned to look at him, eyes wide, head cocked and a tiny pout, "Could you please braid my hair?" I blinked my eyes.

He looked stunned for a moment. _Sheesh, dude, yes, I'm aware of how cute I am. Now braid my fucking hair._ He shook his head, as if clearing it. He muttered something about mood swings and _Snickers_ and the Oracle.

"Thank you, Sunshine!" I beamed up at him. Dude was frickin' huge, and in a golden wife beater and ripped jeans. His golden blonde hair was long, tied at his nape. His golden eyes were nothing like Kronos's, or Hazel's. They were his and unique. Warm and sunny. But also scorching and withering.

I grabbed his hands and tugged him behind me as I made my way out of the basement. Marlowe was on my heel. She'd chased everyone out and was back into a small _katze _again. I took him to the living room.

Imma spare you the gory details. I shoved him onto an overstuffed, floofy armchair. I plopped onto in his lap and handed him a brush I'd pulled from my tatt-pouch.

I started to purr as he dragged the brush through my hair. He chuckled.

"What?" I didn't open my eyes.

I could hear him shaking his head, "I still don't get how you're not dead, little cousin." He sounded incredulous and disbelieving, "And I am serious about this. You attacked and fought a god-"

"And won," I smirked. His hands never faltered.

"You did not. It was a stalemate," he sounded so sure, I couldn't help but snort. "Everyone knows that kicking a man in his dick annuls the duel. It's a big no-no."

I stayed silent. And stopped purring. I made it an uncomfortable silence. He broke first. _Immortals and patience._ "We're gonna rematch," he grumbled low that no one other than someone sitting close and has uber-natural hearing can hear. He continued, though, "You attacked a god, and lived to tell the tale, you attacked the ancient spirit of the Oracle of Delphi, and, again, lived to tell the tale. You interrupted a god. And now you're somehow having him braid your hair, while seated in his lap." He shook his head again. I decided not to point out that he was using the third person to talk about himself. "And that is just the tip of the iceberg."

I hummed. It was turning into a tune from a song. I was humming and vocalizing some parts, I didn't sing the words. I was too drained and still recuperating from the visit to the Oracle.

I threw the thought out. _Not now._

The gist of it, words have power in them, and they use power. So humming and vocalizing it is.

Sunshine started with the braiding, a fishtail braid. _Haha, very funny, cuz_. But that's about it, there was a lot of twisting and turning and looping. He started to mumble under his breath. My humming continued. I realized that he was singing.

"_Oh_

_Oh and they come unstuck_

_Lady, running down to the riptide_

_Taken away to the dark side_

_I wanna be your left hand man_

_I love you when you're singing that song and_

_I got a lump in my throat 'cause_

_You're gonna sing the words wrong,_"

His voice was breathtaking. The god of music and the arts, indeed. It was strong and soft and full of emotion. I continued humming, and him singing. I vocalized and crooned with him, never uttering a word.

"_I just wanna, I just wanna know_

_If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay_

_I just gotta, I just gotta know_

_I can't have it, I can't have it any other way_

_I swear she's destined for the screen_

_Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen, oh_,"

He fishtailed a braided crown around my hair. It took a while.

"_Oh lady, running down to the riptide_

_Taken away to the dark side_

_I wanna be your left hand man_

_I love you when you're singing that song and_

_I got a lump in my throat 'cause_

_You're gonna sing the words wrong_

_I got a lump in my throat because you're gonna sing the words wrong_."

He finished singing and with a flash of light, he finished my hair off. He gave me a mirror. My face was just as I expected from earlier, exotic. My hair was elegant and simple. I raised the mirror a bit. A pure white circlet- the same glowy metal as his great sword- was nestled into my braid. A white laurel wreath, a symbol of his. His support in this shitstorm.

I smiled, it was genuine, at him. He looked dazed.

"You're still not dead, Nixie," drawled my favorite drunkard.

"Morning to you, too, Dio," I purred with a smile at him. He was college-age, thank god- gods (there were two in the room for fuck's sake). No headaches. I quite enjoyed being in a good mood. It was less stressful. And the purring doesn't seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

"You okay, brother?" Dio asked Apollo. It was mocking as if there was something else under there. Probably was.

He shook his head. "I just can't wait until Father meets her," he snorted.

I ignored them, as if they weren't talking about me.

I looked around and was surprised to see Chiron wheeling in through the door. The armchair was facing away from the door. I liked to be surprised every now and then, my instincts and senses were too sharp sometimes.

I smiled and gave him a hug, I was feeling affectionate today, "Morning, Chiron."

He looked pleasantly bewildered, "Good morning to you too, Perci." He looked like he was waiting for me to blow up.

Wait.

Yesterday was my official claiming. Wow…too much happened, with little sleep.

And he also was there in the basement when I woke up. Come to think of it, Dio too. And a couple of other faces, I trusted enough to turn my back on, trusting they wouldn't hurt me.

I walked to Dio's room to get us drinks. I'm definitely not using the ones I have in my tatt-pouch. Those are for the quest.

As soon as I left the three fell into a hushed discussion. I couldn't hear it. It was way too low, even for enhanced senses. I bet they could barely hear the other.

_11:14 AM_

I was mixing cocktails for the four of us at the mini bar. They moved to the lounge while I was up in Dio's room. They needed time to talk in privacy.

I paused for a second. _That was fucking weird_. Since when did I give a fuck?

Oh, right. Since the Oracle scared the shit out of me and my nerves needing to calm down. I remember this peacefulness. It only came after some traumatic event. It balances the intense emotions I felt, Mama would say. So I could look back at it with a calm, collected and composed perspective to weed it into what I want and take what I need without reliving the intensity again. _Oh, well._

Dio groaned when I came in with a bottle of rum. One out of his collection. With no wine. Sunshine and Chiron were amused.

I got some fresh strawberries, courtesy of the Mad Twins, and lime, from little Esmerelda in Cabin Four. I was glad the campers weren't avoiding me thanks to who my sperm donor is.

_Ooh, ooh, ooh!_ I used the Taj-tab for ordering. _Al-Tajir_ was a thriving establishment. The campers were all invested in it, someway or another. It was nice to see it all blossom and the demigods benefiting. (And believe it or not, some gods were adapting it too.)

"That business seems to be doing well," Apollo commented.

"It is," I answered with a nod, tittering around the bar for glasses and shakers and what not.

"I'm curious though..." I raised an eyebrow when he trailed off. "How did you all get the money for it?"

I gave him a hard look, that honestly felt reprimanding. _So they know that most of their children are wasting away… Is it to keep them needed? Or is it just another way to mess up their already fucked up life?_

"Money's going around," I replied coolly. I took a deep breath and smiled. "And so are loans. Some of us have it better than others"- I scoffed at how lightly I putting it- "I'm not the only one loaning out money. Everyone has a skill or things to do or offer in our free time. It's all monitored by myself, the Stolls and the Cabin Heads. Weekly, ledgers are sent out to us automatically," I paused inspecting a glass. _Was that blood?_ I'm using extra large juice glasses. I doubt they can't hold their alcohol. I added, "I like to know how and where my money and investments are at all times."

"You talk like you have the experience? Like you know what you're talking about," Apollo's interest was odd, but the flash of guilt from earlier had me nodding and not overreacting. I liked the calm.

Chiron and Dionysus stopped their discussion and were listening.

"I do," I got a club soda out the fridge. The Stolls and I were here more often than not.

They looked at me, inquiring. Wanting more than what I gave them. _How?_ was the unasked question

"I own many companies worldwide," I was picking mint leaves from the stem. My statement was met with shock and disbelief.

"Excuse me?" Dio cleared his throat. He almost choked on a strawberry, "I thought you said that you _owned_ companies. As in plural. You," disbelief and skepticism was more than obvious.

I smiled, ruefully at him. "I did say that, yes. Besides my mother's own fortune, and that's excluding her inheritance, I've made one for myself," I unconsciously rubbed the colts at my thighs. I was behind the bar so they didn't see it. "We both have enough money to build ourselves an island if we want. And we'd still have a lot to go around," I stated matter-of-factly and shrugged at their piercing gaze. I don't like talking about my money, don't like flaunting it.

It was silent, the only sound was my moving around the bar. "Take a picture. It'll last longer," I said breezily.

"You're odd today," Dio sounded confused.

"It's the trauma," I answered his non-question in the same nonchalant matter. They all descended into uncomfortable silence.

"What are you making?" Chiron asked, clearing his throat.

"Strawberry Mojitos," I hummed. I scratched Marlowe's tummy. She was feeding herself strawberries. She was cute. And she scares the shit out of the three immortals. (_I'll know why when I need to_.)

"How do you know how to make 'em? Where'd you learn?" Apollo seemed genuinely interested. All their eyes were following me as I moved.

"It's not my first time making cocktails," I was pouring the mojitos.

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes. I smiled. "Where'd you learn?" He repeated.

My stay in Russia wasn't all doom and gloom. And, yeah, they drink a lot in Russia. "Sometimes weapons and training aren't the only skills necessary to keep you alive in the real world," my voice lowered a bit. My smile didn't falter.

I plopped down and started sipping out of a straw. I hummed in appreciation.

"_You_ are going to turn me into an alcoholic," Chiron smiled teasingly. "These are too good. And heavy on the booze," he tried to sound stern. Tried.

"This is actually not half bad," Dio grunted, with a shrug.

Apollo snorted, "I don't drink Strawberry Mojitos, but I'm definitely starting too."

"I just want my wine," Dio grumbled like a toddler.

"Your restrictions," Apollo smiled at him, a not-nice smile. Dionysus smirked back, and turned begging eyes on me. _Seriously, what the heck?_

Sitting next to each other I could see faint resemblance. Bone structure, mostly. It was enough to rule them related somehow. But with Dionysus's dark looks and Apollo's golden ones, it was not easy to spy.

After another round of drinks. And me laughing at Apollo's shocked face. We settled down.

"How?" Sunshine took his tongue back from the cat. He was still staring at his brother. Who was guzzling down wine like no tomorrow out of a straw. Ha.

"Living with the Fae makes you look at things differently. They can't lie, but they sure do not let it disadvantage them. Words can be misleading, they can be omitted, and most importantly twisted and used against you. You learn to look closer, look for loopholes or something useful, you look for warped and honeyed words. You ravel and unravel words." I looked at them all in the eyes- purple, gold and brown, "But I'm sure you know this by now." I know they talked about me. Chiron needed to know this. My updated file said so, but Chiron has yet to read it. They understood, so I towed that thought to another highway. I shrugged, "Immortality is bound to get boring. Riddles and tongue twisters seem rather entertaining to most of my kin- both sides."

"How old are you?" Apollo's question caught me off guard.

I frowned a bit and tilted my head to the side, "Twelve."

"How old are you _really_?" His eyes were narrowed and focused at me, like he was trying to see something that wasn't there. _Tough luck, buddy_.

"Really twelve," I raised an eyebrow at him and rolled my eyes. "What? I can't be mature?"

"It makes you not you, Nixie. Maturity," Dionysus said around the straw in his mouth. "Impertinence and immaturity suit you better."

"Everything suits me," I answered matter-of-factly. "They sure don't suit you though, hun."

He only grumbled and continued to sip his wine, "Bitch."

I met Apollo's piercing gaze, "Don't you have somewhere to be, Sunshine?" I gave him a look. _Drop it, hun. You're getting nothing out of me._

He raised an eyebrow. I glared, and it was like _hallelujah!_ went off in his brain. "Shit," he cursed softly. "Shit, yeah, yeah. Thanks for reminding me."

I shook my head and my lips twitched upwards, "Bye, Sunshine."

We sat in silence in a while, Apollo better be in Cabin Seven with his children right now, and not fucking with another poor human's life.

"So," I got the two immortals' attention. "I have my quest and my prophecy. I only need companions now, huh?"

Chiron's eyebrows rose, "Do you have a destination first?"

"The Oracle was pretty clear I go west," I said calmly and shrugged. I took only the words that were spoken from the memory, not the who's and what's and how's.

"Can you tell me the entire prophecy?" He questioned softly. It wasn't pity, but it was damn near toeing the line.

I considered him and Dionysus. Pros and cons were playing volleyball in my head. The pros were winning. I shrugged. I had nothing to hide.

"_You shall go west, and face the god who has turned,_

_You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned,_

_You shall be betrayed by someone who calls you a friend,_

_And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end._"

My voice got a bit ominous as it went, it sounded more like a chant. And with me saying it out loud, it was like it was sealed now. No going back. No refunds. I sighed.

I plopped next to Dionysus. I put my head on his lap, he settled his hand on my sturdy braid.

Chiron and Dio were deep in thought. They were concentrating on the words. Analyzing each word. Making and dismissing theories.

I closed my eyes in the quiet and peace.

What's gonna happen is gonna happen. I'll take it all in stride. Everything will be clear when it happens. And like I said before, the Oracle was notorious for the plot-twists out of fucking nowhere. So, I'll wait and see. I have a destination, an objective, and a suspect. Yes, west is vague. It could mean anything from the nextdoor bathroom to the Pacific and beyond.

_12:12 PM_

Someone was talking to me, I couldn't make out who. I'd slipped too far in thought. Marlowe was on my stomach, a purring factory.

"… _up, Mariana._" That was Chiron's voice, it was coaxing.

"_**I thought I made it clear to not call me that, centaur**_," Marlowe hissed, furiously. She was rubbing her furry face with my cheek. "_**If she smells anything, even the smallest bit suspicious, she'll go after it. And she will not stop until she gets to the bottom of it. I do not want her exhausting herself or her resources and drawing them out too thin to soon. Chaos knows what they have in store for her.**_"

I opened my eyes and raised an eyebrow. They looked like deer in headlights. I cut them both off. "If the next thing that comes out of your mouth's a lie or an excuse, I don't wanna fuckin' hear it," I said haltingly. I didn't move my head from my comfy pillow.

They looked guilty. I snorted and sat up. I wanted coffee.

I watched Chiron and Dionysus, who reverted back to sumo-size, I have a better handle on that specific aspect from the Fates' gift. They were playing Pinochle, Chiron was winning. And Dionysus was getting the floor wiped with his ass.

"I would like to recommend someone for your quest," Chiron said, his eyes never leaving his cards. I swear…just put him in a casino in Las Vegas. He'll be the richest man, eh, centaur, in the world.

"Shoot." I listened to Marlowe as she apologized for not being up in the attic with me. She said she called Apollo here, his Oracle, his responsibility. And according to her, the Oracle took it way too far, and Apollo was frantic when he came here. Something was wrong with the Oracle. He came to me as soon as he could pass through the odd darkness.

They still don't know what or who it is, besides the obvious. Kronos, nevermind how evil and fucked up, does _not_ have _that_ much control. It was a trippy thought. They were discussing it in Olympus now, according to Dio. He'll be joining soon, after my quest is affirmed and on the road.

"Percillia," Chiron called. He looked worried. I _was_ spacing out a lot, eh? _Damn it._

"Yeah," I tilted my head curiously. I was on top of the bar, my feet on the table. With this point of view, I could see all their cards.

Observing how people play these games tells you a lot about them.

"I was saying," he was trying to sound exasperated. I smiled behind the mug. "That Annabeth would be a great addition to your quest."

"Of course Annie's coming," I frowned at him. I accidentally kicked Dio in the face. He growled and snapped his fingers.

I glared at him as purple ribbons and green vines tied my feet and legs together. I bared my teeth at him, "Fucker."

Chiron sighed loudly, while Marlowe snickered. "You know you're allowed two others on your quest, correct?"

I grunted and crossed my arms. It was weird, getting used to the fangs all over again. I mean, thank fuck they ain't _that _long, but still.

He only looked at me expectantly. I sighed and flopped my arms beside me, "What?"

He looked perplexed, "Who else are you taking?"

"Seven more."

Silence…

"What?" Dio hissed and his head snapped my way as if I slapped him. He was glaring.

"Percillia, dear," Chiron was coaxing me, as if talking to a baby. He was testing my patience. Then again, so was I. "You know we follow the Number Three tradition. It is sacred-"

"Spare me the sanctimonious bull, Chiron," I was done playing games. "Three sets of three. Eight campers, including myself. I believe the 'Number Three tradition' is fulfilled thrice. That means three times," I said with a saccharine smile, which probably looked far more sinister with my kohl-lined eyes and fangs. _Okay, _I was pissed.

Dionysus was angry for some reason. "Shit on tradition more would you. I think you left a bit of it intact," he spat. I raised an eyebrow.

Chiron looked troubled, "I think you don't understand how dangerous quests are. And that your putting your fellow demigods in grave danger. A demigods scent is enough to attract unwanted attention. Three is pushing it. But nine of you is catastrophic. You'll stand no chance out there-"

"Exactly," I cut him off, not caring for decency. _Bye-bye, sweet calm._ "_They_ will stand no chance. _They_ do not know enough to survive. And I'm done sugarcoating it, and I'm sorry, but motherfucking Kronos's already made the first move. You and I both know it wasn't Hades who stole the Bolt, remember what happened at the Met?" I raised my eyebrow. I didn't care about the shocked face of both, Chiron and Dionysus. I didn't care about Marlowe's frantic attempts to calm me down. I sneered, "Kronos already weaseled his way _deep_, and now that it's out, he won't stay hidden much longer. The Campers can barely lift a sword for more than an hour of training, barley anyone besides Cabin Five and Six can hold themselves in a fight, let alone the goddamn war that's knocking on our doors!"

They knew I didn't approve of how things were run here, not if war's two steps around the godsdamned corner. I took a deep breath to try to calm down. It didn't work.

"There are spies here, you know it, I know it, we all do," I said sweetly. Which immediately turned into a snarl, "Why do think I stayed in Camp? I could easily leave, go and get my Mother from whichever hell they've taken her. Nothing offered here is all that tempting or I haven't seen before and better. No, I'm not leaving my brothers and sisters to die, because of _your_ incompetence." I laughed bitterly, "They need better training, better life accomodations, better morale and all you immortals are doing _jack shit_ to make it better. A demigod's mortality rate is so low it's _embarrassing_, not only heartbreaking." I shook my head, "They're more street children than children of godsdamned gods! Oh, wait. Street children have a better chance at living than a demigod does," I said my words dripping with false pity.

I was pacing. At some point I'd broken through Dionysus's binds. I was vibrating.

"They _die_ before they even _reach_ Camp borders to even start to learn what the hell is going on in their fucked up life. That's _if_ they know others like them or Camp Half-Blood even fucking _exists_! And _if_ they do reach here they're _bitter_, _resentful_, and so, _so broken_," I barely managed to get the words through my clenched teeth, without punching something.

I wasn't the only thing vibrating. I was sending little tremors in the ground. Tiny earthquakes. _So I could do _that_, lovely._

"You go around making a mess of things and you expect us demigods to go around and clean up your fuck ups for you. You destroy and we fix it up again. And what do we get? Nothing. _Absolutely fucking nothing_ from you. Not even a cheap pharmacy birthday card, or any child support funds to at least _attempt_ to fucking aid us in surviving in the godsdamned real world." I shook my head and barked out a harsh laugh.

They're faces were as pale as the porcelain pythos shattering, triggering the glass all around. I was shaking with restrained fury.

I looked at their near fearful faces incredulously with my eyebrows raised, "You think the couple dozens you have here are all demigods out there? Fuck no! And honestly, if some stranger comes up to you with the offer of a better life, be it genuine or not, desperation will make you say _yes_. _You'll sell your soul to the fucking Devil,_ if it means you get to _live_, not just survive, just passing _day_ after _day_," I said in a hearbroken whisper. My head was cocked to the side, as I focused on them.

I crooned, my voice dripping with sweet, sweet venom, "So I don't want you to be surprised when half this godsdamned Camp turns on you and leaves. Because if there is one thing I know about my grandfather, and I know _a-fucking-lot_, is that he could be the most _charming_ and persuasive person you've _ever_ _met_. And he'll do what-the-fuck-ever to get what he wants. And if that just happens to be demigods…. In these conditions? He'll have 'em either as his supporters or as rotting corpses," I hissed. Marlowe seemed resigned, she sat silent on a mutilated couch's arm, watching me with begrudgingly approving, snowy eyes. The sapphires under her eyes gleaming.

I was silent for a second, thunder boomed outside. I looked to the window, to my reflection. No visible weapons 'sides my colts and athame. Jewelry on my hands and forearms and neck, Apollo gave 'em back. Loose strands of my hair were floating on a non-existent breeze, Apollo's pure white, laurel, metal circlet flashing. Regular ripped, short, short denims. Hermes' gladiator sandals. Claws and furious, glowing, sea-green, demon eyes. Framed with thick lashes, and kohl. Tattoos on full display on my tanned, golden skin. My skin that was peppered in scars.

Scars, lots and lots and lots of scars. Criss-crossings of faded white, flecks and spots. Raised and jagged pink. And- underneath my collarbone, unseen under the halter top- a white star, a birthmark, proof….

Barely anywhere unharmed or unscathed, except my face.

And damn it all to high hell if I still did not look as terrifyingly beautiful as it could get. And boy was I _angry_. And hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And _boy_ was I scorned.

"You treat your children like shit." I laughed, it was a tinkling and agonizing sound at the same time, "That is, of course, if you mind looking their way at all. Hell, you treat other immortals like shit! You Olympians treat everyone like fucking shit…."

I giggled, it sounded as mad as I thought it would. "But, then again, who cares? _Certainly_ not any of _you_, though," I smiled a winning smile, glass shards and various liquids swirling around me in the background. I sighed, disappointedly and shook my head. "But back to my main point, I'm taking seven demigods with me, and I'm taking a satyr. They need at least some fucking _iota_ of experience and if I can give it to them I _will_." The determination and conviction in my voice was both terrifying and awe-worthy. "If they can't survive out there, trust me, they won't survive at all. The seven that are coming with me will at least have enough perspective and experience from the harsh outside to help me with the training." _I dare you to disagree._

The two immortals in front of me sat silently, watching my every move. They didn't disagree.

"I'm training the kids, they're still young, and learn twice as fast and are building muscle memory. But the others…," I shook my head. "The others are used to slacking and shitting up what they're doing. They don't care anymore. There's _no fucking point_. When they're old enough to get kicked out of Camp, they'll die from incompetence, no _money_, no _food_, no _shelter_, no _fucking nothing_. Absolutely _nothing_! And I am _trying_ so _fucking_ _hard_ to change that." My throat closed up. Breathing was difficult, it didn't help that I was raising my voice above the booming thunder. I'm fucking glad he's watching, I just hope the rest of the _esteemed_ council was too.

You know when you're just _so damn angry_, you want to cry? My tears however _burned_ before they even made it out.

"That small business? _Al-Tajir_? Fuck, you should've seen how _happy_ the smiths were that they were _needed_, that they were _included_, that they were _important_ and _essential_ for success, how _happy_ Cabin Eleven was when I suggested they suppervise the project with Cabin Six…." _They just looked so happy and grateful._

I breathed in the scent of the rain that was pelting the place. My father or myself? I didn't care much. Let's say combined effort.

My voice became all formal and I stood absolutely still, which was a very unnerving sight, considering I'm the most ADHD person you'll meet. "I'm taking Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood, Clarisse La Rue, Travis Stoll, Connor Stoll, Drew Tanaka, Michael Yew, and Nyssa Barrera. They're all informed, and they've been packing accordingly. They should be done and here by three." I didn't wait for their approval.

I threw a final bomb, at least I hope it's the final, "I've also appointed spies of my own, people to watch camp when I'm not here, since none of you can do your jobs. They'll be reporting to _me_."

That seemed to do the trick. Dionysus's face was turning as purple as a plump, juicy grape. It didn't look good on him.

I cut him off, sneering, "No, you can't track how they do it and there's no schedule. I believe you know that I'm keyed into the Camp wards? I'll know if there are any intruders, and in that case I would love to forewarn that you expect a message from me. And you'll know when you see it, or if. My cabin is open for the little kids and only them, I keyed them into the Cabin ward I put up. No one else can go in, and if there is ever any ill-intentioned intruder, they'll be fried good, courtesy of Thalia Grace. She and I happen to be close." _Fuck, I didn't want to include her into all of this. I didn't even want them to know we even knew the other existed._

They looked as if I slapped them, a real good bitch-slap. Thunder stopped mid boom. I bulldozed on over them, cutting them off _again_. _Immortals and patience. _

"No, I'm not fucking telling you how," I growled. "She and I will be monitoring camp borders at all time. She'll inform me if any thing is out of order or if anything slipped by me. But I hope asking you to put up patrols isn't much of a hasle," I hummed delightedly at the idea of them saying no.

I glowered, "Clarisse is setting a schedule with Annabeth right now, we just need your _approval…._ And if we don't have it, we'll still carry on, but it'll be under your radar. And I believe that you'll like to be informed and not in the dark. So I recommend that if you have any more suggestions you discuss it with them when they make their way here to discuss the specifics of our quest," I said as diplomatically as possible. My fangs and claws shortened back a bit but were still there. My eyes were normal again, as normal as possible, blue and green were storming and clashing in my irises still.

"Now, I don't fucking care, but I damn well know what I'm talking about. I've seen shit most of y'all couldn't even stomach or believe. Yes, I'm young and, yes, you're immortals and much, _much_ older…," I sounded tired there for a second. Memories hitting full force. But a scowl made its way back on my face, derision in my sweet, sweet voice.

"But I've met my fair share of immortals. So sorry-not-sorry if I hurt your precious, little godly egos. So suck it up and get your heads out of your ashy, old, saggin' asses…," I turned and looked behind me at the invisible rainbow, my eyes are glowing, I know it. The fuckers were watching. It's what got Dionysus angry before all this started, not only were they listening in, they had an exclusive, live broadcast to the '_Diss the Gods Show- Starring Percillia Jackson._'

I smiled a nasty and fangy smile, pairing it with my pretty, ring-clad, long and sharp nailed middle finger.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get my stuff and take care of some weapons I left out, incase any of my little ones decide they want to visit my cabin while I'm on a world-altering quest. Ciao." I walked out with a charming smile on my face. I flicked my hand and the door opened. (_I had the water on the doorknob pull it. No matter how my core was drained, I ain't gonna fuck up my own grand exit._)

As I walked I heard loud voices, it escalated to shouting. Thunderclouds filled the once partly cloudy sky, the rain never touched me. And just as my Cabin door closed behind me, even my enhanced hearing that could hear their shouting match all the way here, everything went silent.

Everything. The birds, the woods, the Hearth, the rain, the forges, the arena, the armory, the studios, the stables, even the sea. It all went silent.

That is, until Uncle's bone rattling thunder clap _shattered_ it.

_3:00 PM_

An hour and a half later and true to my word, Annabeth and her brother and Second, Malcolm, along with Clarisse and her seconds, Mark and Sherman, were seated with Chiron around the coffee table in the living room. The lounge needed lots of TLC. I already commissioned some campers from the Hephaestus, Apollo and Aphrodite Cabins to look it over. I paid them in advance for their efforts, the cost for materials and transportation and what not will be when I see the place better than before. I don't like my money wasted.

Besides, I destroyed it, I'm bound to somehow fix it, not including destroyed egos.

Speaking of tinkering, my automatons are ready, just final inspection from the head counselor and they'll be mine. And honestly? After seeing a humanoid broze automaton that could rearrange itself into a bipedal spider, with swords for legs and shock web shooters…. I can't _wait_ to try the rest out.

I just talked with Beck and he agreed to let his eight-year-old brother, Shane, store them in my Cabin. Shane was keyed in.

They were finalizing a couple stuff, pointing at the maps strewn all over the coffee table. And unless my eyes are fooling me, maps of landscape, airscape, waterscape and even an underground-scape of Camp Half-Blood and some of the entirety of the Sound. Hell, what the heck do they need the blueprints of each building on the terrain for?

I smirked, _good, good. They were taking my words to heart. And so soon with no life threats._ I was beaming.

"Where the Hades your bags at, chica?" Nyssa's hello was heartwarming. The girl was built, she looked sixteen rather than her thirteen. Her mocha skin was glistening with rain, her muscles flexed as she crossed her arms. And _damn_ if she wasn't pretty.

She was in her usual. Bandana, cutoffs and an orange, Camp Half-Blood wife beater, but they were sans-grease now. She was eyeing my deflated, tiny backpack suspiciously. I'd shrunk all my shit and put them in my tatt-pouch. The backpack had a space extension potion dropped on it. "You told us to pack for everything," she grunted pointing to the mountain of luggage.

I blinked. This was going to be a long day.

Michael and the Stolls were nowhere insight, neither was Grover. Drew was lounging on the couch sharpening her fans, she was basically drowned in her very own mountain of designer suitcases, a _Channel_ backpack was on her lap.

I have a feeling they brought everything they could shove into all of their Cabin's suitcases.

Sigh…. I hollered from them all to get their asses here.

Not a minute later, all eight of my companions stood in a line in front of the impending avalanche, now that Drew, Clarisse and Annabeth's were added.

I shuddered at the thought of lugging those around all across the country. "I said everything _essential_, not everything open ended. We're not moving in together. Ah, ah, ah," I raised my voice over their complaints. "I said _expect anything_. Anything could happen. We could be mountain-climbing glaciers, or running around in the Texas heat. It's still unknown"

I looked them all in the eye if this started out this wrong, I'm suing… someone.

I needed to know that they'll listen to me when absolutely necessary, "We aren't going on a field trip and I'm not your mamma. I want this ridiculousness not there in…"- I looked at the clock- "You got fifteen minutes. I wanna leave Camp no later than four."

And still no sign of Dionysus.

_3:19 PM_

The luggage was down to a reasonable total. We were all seated around a dining table Nyssa put together in minutes.

I'd told them the prophecy. They all jumped to the third line, the '_betrayed by someone who calls you a friend_' one.

I think getting them to work together was going to be the hardest part of this quest, and we're looking for a lightning bolt for choclate's sake! They were throwing accusations at each other.

I locked gazes with Chiron- we'd talked during the bags' fiasco. We cool. He nodded, and rolled away from the table.

"Enough!" I yelled as I banged on the table once. It turned to sawdust. "Let me make one thing clear for each and every one of you," I pointed at them all, my eyes meeting each of theirs. I was serious, and exhausted. "None of you. _None_ of you would be here in this room at this _moment_ if I suspected any of you turn on me or backstab me." They looked skeptical. I glared.

"Now, I'm only gonna say this once," I leaned back in my chair, calming down after they sent apologetic looks around. "I trust you all here explicitly, I trust you with my life. And I need you all to at least have some level of trust amongst you all, or this quest is gonna be a pain in all our asses."

"So where we goin'?" Clarisse, never one for mushy feeling. Neither am I, but here I am with two heartfelt passionate speaks in one day. _Halle-frickin'-lujah!_

"The Oracle said west?" Drew said, putting her hair up in a high ponytail.

"Uh-huh," was my curt answer.

"West could mean anything west from Camp," Annabeth reasoned. I'd braided her her curls into a dutch braid, some strands were framing her tanned face.

"True," I still kept it short and sweet. The others were deep in thought.

"Texas?" Michael pitched in. He was still shaking the wood shards out of his black hair.

Nyssa slapped the back of his head. "Why the Hades would Zeus's Bolt be in Texas?"

I mean it _could_, but it doesn't seem right.

"Yee-haw!" came simultaneously from Travis and Connor. Annabeth silenced them with a glare.

"Wh-what's so important about the west anyway, Chiron?" _Finally_, someone's asking the right questions. I nodded at Grover and turned my attention to Chiron. I pretended to not see Clarisse holding a knife to Drew's throat, as she was about to dump a roofie in Nyssa's water bottle.

Chiron gave them the evil I-am-a-teacher-respect-me-when-I-explain-important-stuff glare. Since I knew what he'll be explaining, I drifted in my head. "The Underworld…."

I sent a briefing to Thalia, a recap of events, in confidence- it's way too hard to get info out of a tree, than it is out of a person. She needs to know what's going on. She'll be on her own for a while.

"_Sure, sure, Fishbreath,_" came her reply.

"_Fuck you, Pineconeface,_" I threw back at her. We both laughed. "_Sorry I outed you during the rant, my bad_…. _Check on the geezers and the little baby, see how they doin'._"

"_I'm not a baby!_"

"_Jay!_" I sent him an excited vibe. "_How'd you know I was referring to you? I could've been talking about Nico._"

"_Come on, Perce,_" Nico groaned.

Thalia, Bee and I laughed at them.

"_What are you all laughing about?_" Hazel's voice joined, and soon her laughter.

I chatted with my cousins for a while via mindchat.

"Perci, Perci, Perce!" I blinked.

"What the Hades, Prissy? We're discussing important shit here," Clarisse pointed Lamer at my chest.

I pushed the electric-red tip away, "I know."

She growled. Travis raised his hand, Clarisse pointed her spear at him, "What?"

"So we going to Hollywood?" I admired his bravery.

The entire group cheered. Nyssa, Anna and I groaned.

"What part of this isn't a field trip don't you understand?" Nyssa growled at them, pointing a heavy looking, glowy sledgehammer at them.

"Remember the Summer Solstice deadline," Anna glowered at them. They shrunk in their seats. "If the Bolt isn't returned to Lord Zeus by the twenty first, not only will there be another World War, according to what Perci told us last night," she took a deep breath. (_My dream excursion worked._) It didn't help that with saying his name, he can overhear us. _Not good._ "The Crooked One" _-nice_ _save-_ "will easily be able to use the Olympian's separation and the weapon he stole in his favor," she shivered, they all did, even Chiron. Seems like we weren't the only ones with daddy issues. "The war will be over before it even started."

"I'm surprised you accepted it all in a couple hours," I smirked proudly at her. "It took the gods more than a decade. You get a pat on the back." They all flinched at the thunder booming. "Oh, can it you overgrown ostrich!" I yelled at the ceiling. The boys were stuck between trying to not laugh and flinching along with Clarisse and Drew, Annie and Nyssa winced, Grover downright whimpered.

"I liked it more when you kept in nice and short," Grover threw a can at me. I threw it back, and watched as he caught it in his mouth and started chewing.

"I second that," Nyssa raised her hand. Hands came up despite my dark look. Even Chiron!

I threw my hands up in the air, "_Ugh_! Fine." I crossed my arms and legs and settled for brooding.

So, to-do list:

1-Get the Bolt

2-Get the Helm

3-Get Mama

4-Get through this in one piece

5-Try not to kill anyone

Gotta sort my priorities. Mama's a big girl, I have no doubt she's giving Uncle Hades hell. I smiled.

I also realised I haven't told them about Uncle Hades's Helm…. Or did I? Dunno

Chiron was explaining something or another. I didn't pay attention. I was planning a route of sorts. We've got about two weeks till the Deadline. The Bolt could be anywhere in the States, that is, if Kronos didn't think big and sent it overseas. He has the assets and followers.

But no, he'd want it with him when he rises to boast, he can't resist. And with the Helm too… he could make on hell of an entrance. So they're both in the US. Mexico, Alaska and Canada are out of the question then.

He'd want it near, but not too close. A thought hit me. "Hey, Chiron?" I cut him off. I'm pretty sure we all know how the Trojan War went down.

"Yes, Percillia?" He frowned when he saw me frowning in concentration. The others, sensing it was important, stopped bickering- sorry, reenacting the War. I wasn't often serious.

"You said that important locations translate to wherever the gods move with the, uh, Flame of Western Civilization and what not, correct?" I didn't wait for him to answer. The thread of thought was already hard to hold in the chaos of my mind. "Olympus went to the Empire State Building. The Underworld to L.A …," I trailed off.

Chiron was frowning, trying to catch my flow, Sorry, but unless you can survive turbulent twisters then it's pretty hard to follow. "What are you getting at, Perci?"

Annabeth's mind was going a mile a minute. "So if Olympus is in the east… what are you looking for in the… west?"

I looked my mentor in the eye. "Where the hell is Mount Othrys now? It's west somewhere, I know that for sure. But where in the west…." I opened my mind to Marlowe, she was in the basement, sealing it off in case the kids find a way to it.

A look of horrible realization hit Chiron and a couple others.

"_Hey Marlowe?"_

"_**Yes, little one?**_"

"_Mind opening a map of Ley Lines I could look at?_" I sounded sheepish, why I don't know.

I could feel her curiosity, "_**Of course**_."

A second later, I had a world map spread out in my mind. I could hear Chiron explaining to them what Othrys was- the goddamned Titans HQ, that's what it is. Annabeth was looking through some book I have no idea where she conjured it from.

"It is definitely in California," Chiron was thinking out loud. Seriously, how has he never put thought in this before?

"California Coastal Ranges?" Annabeth piped up.

"Definitely," I zoomed there. "Ley Lines intersect a lot in Cali. Lots of overlapping near the mountains."

"That's brilliant," Chiron whispered. "I haven't heard of Ley Lines in a long, long time. Do you have a map?"

"Looking at it," I replied distractedly.

"Could it be Mount Diablo?" Connor suggested hesitantly. Clarisse was guarding both Anna and I's thought process, nothing good happens if it's interrupted.

"No," Michael was the one to answer. He was looking at a map on the coffee table under the rubble of the dining one. "Diablo's west-central, not coastal."

Nyssa was fiddling with something. Grover was obediently silent and munching on the broken table. The Stolls and Mike were pouring over the maps.

"Dammit," I growled in frustration. Their heads snapped to me in shock. "What?"

"You growled," Grover bleated. I glared. "It sounded like a tiger," he bleat-whimpered.

Right, the sound wasn't even half human. Damn the Oracle. "It is."

"I knew you looked different," Drew whispered, eyeing my lips. Or the fangs biting them.

"Tattoos?!" ADHD sucks, even Annabeth got sidetracked.

"I've had them for a while. Covered them up," I waved my hand dismissively. "And can we discuss my exquisite looks later. Thank you."

"Perci, dear, calm down," Chiron oddly managed to calm me. I sighed and dropped my head on Rissa's shoulder, my feet in each of the Stolls laps. I gave them wide, kitten eyes. They sighed. I purred as they started rubbing them, my sandals off.

"Now, tell me what frustrates you," Chiron rolled closer.

"Like I said, a lot of Ley Lines overlap and pass through the coastal ranges in California. Through California in general. And the West Coast as a whole, but that's beside the point. There are a lot Native American Reservations, they all have their own magic and set of gods. They're sprinkled in the mountains, it's hard to pinpoint where Othrys is now." I groaned, rubbing my forehead. Drew handed me some lavender oil to rub. I knew I kept her around for a reason, she's a wicked chemist, though she usually sticks to essential oils and perfumes.

"Can someone explain what Ley Lines are, I'm lost," Nyssa joined in.

"Ley Lines represent magical currents. Where they overlap is usually where the highest concentration of magic is. Where more than three overlap, it's usually a monument, or a random place- but that's rare- that's faced some sort of divine intervention. Or it's a place where magic is generated. Or like we know it, the Mist," Connor answered. I looked at him questioningly. "Alabaster talks too much." I nodded in sympathy. I knew how Hecate's eldest is. But I was impressed he even bothered to listen or remember.

Travis was grinning at his blushing brother, but he was proud.

"More details please, isn't the Mist, well, invisible…and mist…," Drew voiced, she sounded interested. Huh, I don't know why I chose her… wait I do, shit, no refunds.

"Can we do this later?" I asked. Connor looked real uncomfortable. They nodded begrudgingly. "Okay so back to where I was going to… Othrys is in the west and since it's the Titan's seat of power-"

"Kronos is more likely to want his new toys near him," Annabeth completed the thought. I nodded.

"But that's the dumbest thing he could have done," Clarisse piped up, she was analyzing this whole thing from a strategic point. She was also good at back rubs. "It's too obvious. He wouldn't be that dumb. The weapons aren't on Othrys, waiting for him to rise." I agreed on that thought. They were near him, but not _that _near.

Ooh, and apparently I did tell them about the Helm…?

"He could be hiding it in plain sight," Drew countered. She shifted. "He would've thought that we'd think the same and look the other way."

"And the fear factor," Grover added hesitantly. "He- he scares the g-gods, what does that say about us puny mortals? I wouldn't want to touch him with a ten mile pole, if I could help it."

"Both are plausible conclusions," I cut any brewing arguments or debates. "Now we have a specific destination in mind. California. I'd bet a thousand bucks Uncle Hades knows where Othrys is. We either find the weapons there, or we track them from there. So now we'll be heading to Hollywood, to visit my Uncle"

They all nodded in agreement. They looked scared, not many- if not many were counted on a hand- journeyed to the Underworld and lived to tell the tale. But they managed to hide it well enough. It was basically suicide.

"Oh, and before I forget," I took out a vial, and smirked at their horrified faces.

"Oh, come on," Travis groaned.

"No more potions, please," Connor whined. The rest nodded like bobble-heads and grumbled.

I shook my head. "Everybody grab a backpack that you'll be carrying around." Everyone hauled a backpack on. I turned to the luggage and poured a drop on a bag. It shrunk.

"Shit," Nyssa was staring wide eyed at it. It was the size of a fist. She bent and picked it up and turned to look at me, "How do I reverse this?"

"Just think it and it will grow back," I explained as I repeated the same with everyone else's. "It's a shrinking potion of sorts, as in you don't need a counter potion to enlarge. It purely depends on the person's will and power aptitude."

_4:04 PM_

I was glad that Camp had something to offer us, a white SUV with tinted windows and an ugly, as fuck, logo for the strawberry business schtick.

Chiron trotted up beside me. I was too short to talk to, so he lifted me onto his back.

"You handled them well," he complimented.

"Did I though?"

"Yes, you did. You kept them more or less focused on one goal."

I doubted it.

We watched as my companions manhandled each other. And winced at Drew's loud, shrill voice. This was going to be hard.

"You're right," he admitted, somewhat in shame.

I didn't go for sarcasm. "About?"

"My incompetence. No, no, no, listen to me. I was lenient, too lenient. Now look at them, they barely coexist together. Can barely stand each other. There's been Cabin Feuds you know?" I nodded, I did know. Read about it. "They were worse than normal feuds by far, a civil war more like it. And over the littlest of things. We don't encourage you all to blend together. You are all together, yes, but are still isolated, confined to your own Cabins. Your only friends are your siblings, no outsiders. You mingle, yes. But not nearly enough."

He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"They barely know each other. No way or time to build trust. And if war is as close as you say… then I'm afraid this might turn into an _every man for himself_ scenario," he shook his head sadly. "I commend you on the work your doing with the younger kids. It will be hard… to get everyone together. You nearly terrified them all with your skills and your interacting with all the Cabins. You helped them open their eyes to all the other possibilities. You helped them a lot. I am glad you're here."

I hugged him from the side, his tweed jacket smelled like coffee and chocolate. "Don't worry, Chiron. We still need you. And you'll do the right thing, I know it." I jumped off his back and turned to look at him. "Just don't forget," I looked him in the eye. "And no horsing around!"

I hightailed my way down the hill laughing at his indignation, it soon turned to laughter. I looked back and saw him waving.

We all waved back.

As I got in the white Campe SUV, I glimpsed Luke Castellan's disappointed form. I'm glad he came late. I don't need Annabeth's crush turning her mind to mush. Or the hero worship that'll have someone slip and pour him all the information on the quest. And I definitely don't need or want to deal with his annoying charm.

"Where to?" Grover asked, the lucky fucker got shotgun.

"Montauk," I replied, grinning at Nyssa. She was the only one that looked barely legal.

"On it, chica," she smirked. I think she was the type to pass the speed limit more than it was appropriate, let alone legal.

Grover groaned and looked back at me, "Please, no titanium or steel."

I laughed, "No worries, G-man. Got the keys this time."

He smiled back.

"Why am I in the middle?" Drew pouted. She was in the back row squished between Anna and Rissa.

"Because I want to sit near the window," Rissa drawled unimpressed. She'd call her _prissy_ but that's my nickname.

"So do I," Annabeth answered from beside the other window. She was reading some architecture book in Ancient Greek.

"Then why does _she_," Drew sneered at me. "Get to sit here."

"What else would you expect from her?" Michael called from where he sat in the first row with the Stolls.

"Not sitting on me, honestly." She really needs to stop complaining or I'm gonna have to resort to drastic measures.

I snickered. I was laying across all three girls. I put my headphones on and turned the music up, drowning out the noise.

I was petting Marlowe from where she laid across my stomach… who happened to appear out of nowhere. She was leaving Chiron a map of the Ley Lines, he'll contact us with any new discoveries if he managed.

Oh, and cue the panicked, surprised screams.

"_Are you still willing to come?"_

"_Of course."_

"_It is not safe. It is dangerous, deadly at times. You will do things you never knew you could. You'll cross lines you never dared to come near. I can't promise you that you won't die. But if you do survive, you will never be the same, that I can promise. So, I will ask again, this is your last chance to back out. I know it's not easy. It's okay to be scared and for you to back out…. Are you still willing to accompany me on this dangerous quest, where we will be isolated and alone, where we cannot ask for nor receive help?"_

"_Yes."_

**Sooo, how ya doin? Good I hope. Lots happened, Perci went ****_loco _****and attacked Apollo, they then drank Mojitos together... And lets not forget Perci's rant. That thing alone took two pages without all who said and what did. I got a little carried way, pardon. **

**So ****_Vault166,_**** I don't know if you're still reading or not but I did follow with my promise and mentioned your automaton...**

**Ooh, and ****_NicoleR85, _****I'd like to thank you...you've reviewed almost every chapter and you make my day and I'm always looking forward to your reviews, thank you again. And you were the only reviewer last chapter, seriouly people?! I know it's annoying when an author asks for reviews but I now understand them... So please, ****_please_**** review!**

**I'm sorry ****_snuffles-bambi_**** I got carried away and this is a long chapter... Ooh, ooh and ****_Guest, _****first of all thanks for the review, and I hope you got your full of Perci insulting the gods... she kicked one in the nuts and another in the face. **

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please review. If you have any ideas, thoughts, questions please don't hesitate to say or ask. **

**And finally Perci's getting goin'. I honestly thought I'd never get there. So watcha think about the questers? Too much, shocking, okay, good, exciting? Any who-**

**-3anona, out!**


	19. Announcement

**DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION!**

**DO I HAVE YOUR ATTEN-TION!**

Hopefully, I do. (And for FFdotNet, the previous sentences are lyrics that ain't mine... I just read the guidelines and for some reason I'm terrified even though I have done nothing against said guidelines, so...)

Ahem... **THIS IS NOT A CANCELLATION NOTICE! I REPEAT: THIS. IS. NOT. A. CANCELLATION. NOTICE!**

Hope y'all lovelies heard that.

I am most _definitely_ not abandoning my dear Perci. The story just seemed to run a way from me, and would not listen at all. If I want to go east, it goes west. Sorry.

BUT FEAR NOT MY DEAR CIVILIANS, 'CAUSE MAMA IS JUST **REWRITING** IT.

Yup, you heard it from me first though. Anywho, it'll be under the same name plus a "—Rewrite" or "—Revamp"... haven't decided yet.

But, just to let ya know, the timeline is different... therefore more info is gonna be there, and I really advise if y'all still into the story to read the new chaps. Just gotta tell y'all a lil something, something... it might be a bit much for some of y'all, maybe, idk. But with all the crap I see on this sight... I honestly dunno. Don't worry, though it ain't anything of _that_ nature, but I'll be putting the proper warnings then. But check it out. Pretty please...

Anyway, I felt I needed to introduce my dear girl properly, y'all seemed to fall in love with her, and idk how that relates, but the story starts from a five-year old Perci's POV, sorta. I think it's called third person or something. But if y'all seem interested then CHECK IT OUT!

Sincerely, 3anona!

P.S: how y'all doin' in this lovely year? How's quarantine serving ya? Hope you all are doing well and staying healthy!

P.P.S: there was one time I wrote in an A/N to "blame the assholes in the sky." I have felt _reeeeeeeally_ bad about it and it's nagging at me, and I just need to say that I meant the PJO Olympians— or my version of them— and I in absolutely no way meant to insult or offend anybody or their beliefs. Please, I really hope no one was bothered as much as I probs was with myself. Phew, got that out of the way!

P.P.P.S: Ooh, stay tuned and for WYDETU- REWRITE/REVAMP! I should have it up soon enough. And, honestly, shame, shame, shame on you if you ain't following this poor, struggling author.

P.P.P.P.S: Thank you ALL for your favs, follows, and reviews! Honestly, whenever I get one of those my muse drops by, gives me a good scold, and I start either planning or writing! So keep it up my lovelies! I've missed you all.

Thanks for your attention ;)


End file.
